Reinvention
by Elenimou
Summary: Stephane has lost everything. She learns who her true friends are which may be more important than love.
1. Chapter 1

This is a bit rushed, I know. If I don't push now, it won't be finished until Valentine's Day. Probably will be a Babe story, but we'll see. Thank you JE for the characters.

* * *

 **Stephanie** squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. Her clothes weren't binding, her shoes weren't too tight, the people at the table that made her uncomfortable. Joe Morelli sat next to her oblivious to the stares Stephanie was receiving from the woman across the table, Grandma Bella. The woman hated Stephanie and was no more forgiving now that Stephanie and Joe were engaged and moving quickly to marriage. Angie Morelli was being overly attentive to Stephanie, "Now that you and Joe are _finally_ getting married, you'll be having children right away. You've lost at least ten years of child bearing already; you may only have ten years more before you begin the change. Some women start the change in their early 40's."

Stephanie looked at Barbara Morelli, Joe's sister in law and wife of Anthony. She pretended not to be paying attention. She had borne Anthony a half dozen children, the last three after they separated and reconciled, three separate times. Barbara and Anthony did not care for Stephanie and preferred to give her the minimalist treatment; hello and good-bye. Their children sat around the table quiet as church mice as Grandma Bella kept them under control with her death-ray Sicilian stares. No doubt once the children left Angie Morelli's house, they'd explode in pent up energy.

Stephanie dropped her eyes to her dinner plate. This was the Sicilian-American Christmas Eve dinner, the Feast of the Seven Fishes. There wasn't a food on the table, short of the bread, she cared to eat. She had never eaten mussels, clams and oysters and wasn't about to start tonight. The unserved salmon sat on the table, complete as if had just jumped onto the platter snagging parsley and lemon slices along the way.

The cooked green vegetables swam in olive oil like sea weed caught in an oil slick. Adding red peppers for a festive touch only made the vessel remind her of the many garbage dumpsters she had crawled through in her past life as a bond apprehension agent for her cousin Vinnie Plum. Joe had insisted she work a safer job. Currently she was working at Macy's in the lingerie department selling middle age ladies pastel full size briefs.

Peeking at Joe, she saw he remained oblivious to is mother's conversation about children. She looked across the table to Bella, the old harpy would probably live forever, her great mother-in-law. The old lady threw back her head, touched the side of her right eye and in a haunting voice said, "I see you will have boys, but not before you have girls. Joseph will not be happy with only daughters so you will have four girls before you begin to have boys." Great, Stephanie thought, her coming life would be at least five children in the next ten years, Sunday dinners at the Morellis, and Friday dinners at the Plums. It was fortunate she hadn't been able to eat, her developing nausea might have been embarrassing.

Joe's cell phone tweeted quietly. He withdrew the phone from his pants pocket and mumbled something. Addressing the people at the table, "I have to leave. I won't be back tonight and probably not tomorrow until late." Turning to Stephanie, "Cupcake you want to stay here or go to your parent's?"

Stay with the Morellis? No way! Joe was her shield form Bella, without him the evil witch would have free access to her. "Drop me at my parents."

The drive wasn't far, Trenton's Chambersburg district wasn't big. Stephanie kissed Joe, "Merry Christmas. See you tomorrow." and scooted out the door.

The Plum front door was locked so she rang the bell. Her Grandmother Edna answered, "Look who is here, where is Joe? I thought you were at the Morelli's tonight." Grandma was already dressed in a nice burgundy pants suit and was wearing short stacked heels. As usual her hair was recently styled in tight curls and was actually in the natural grey, no dyes for Christmas.

"He caught a case and had to go. I thought I'd go to church with you." She was also hoping there would be something to eat but the kitchen was dark and cold. Her mother came down the stairs dressed in a dark dress for Christmas Eve mass, "Why are you here?"

"Joe caught a case. He'll be gone tonight and most of tomorrow."

"Christmas Day!" Her mother gasped. "He won't be here tomorrow for Christmas dinner?"

"He's a detective. Crime doesn't take off for holidays."

"Why didn't you go to church with the Morellis? As a married woman you spend Christmas Eve with your in-laws and Christmas here. That is proper etiquette but then you never bothered to learn your manners. I'll have to apologize for your poor behavior." Once again Helen took every opportunity to belittle her youngest daughter.

"We aren't married yet."

"It is because you haven't set a date. There's no reason for a long engagement, you two have lived together, for years."

Stephanie didn't say it was Joe who kept putting off setting a wedding date, even refusing to talk about it. It was as if the ring was his brand on Stephanie warning others, especially Ranger, to back off. A wedding was a needless addition until children came along.

Looking at Stephanie's short dress Helen scrunched her eyes, "You can't go to Mass dressed like that?

"What's wrong?"

"Your dress is too short. You are nearly a married woman now, you must dress respectfully. Go upstairs, you probably have something in your closet that would be more suitable and modest. You shouldn't be showing so much leg, you aren't a teenager now."

Stephanie thought her closet might contain her high school clothes. It would be interesting to see what was there; pleated plaid skirts, sleeveless prom dress and jeans with torn knees. "I'll keep my coat on."

"No, people will wonder what you are hiding and assume you are pregnant."

What is it with babies and pregnancies tonight? Oh yes, Christmas and baby Jesus. "I'll go home and change." Stephanie turned and walked out the front door. Since she didn't have a car, by the time she walked to either Joe's or her apartment and change clothes, she'd be late for Mass. The choice then became, which location had food. Joe's pantry was empty but she had mac and cheese in her freezer at the apartment. Decision made.

Stephanie knew walking the streets of Trenton alone, at night was not the safest thing to do. She was alert for movement all around her. But it was hard thinking about her safety without reviewing the last few hours. Did she really love Joe enough to be friendly with his family? Her mother was impossible. Since early childhood Stephanie tried to please the woman, but failed. With the engagement Helen was on a rampage that this time Stephanie would remain married, "This is your last chance at being a proper wife." The engagement ring didn't come with a promise to love and cherish. It was given her with about as much enthusiasm as a cold six pack of beer…and probably less.

How will her life be married to Joe? It would be a Burg life, what she was raised to believe was her destiny. Small house, children, housecleaning, cooking or a lot of prepackaged meals, evenings in front of the television with on-demand sex before bed. Socializing hadn't occurred yet and at best it would be with other policeman's wives talking about their children's' projectile vomiting, diaper rash, and breast feeding verses bottles. The more she thought about it, the more depressed she became. She received her college degree in business to be earn her own way. Somewhere in there she fell in love with Dickie Orr, divorced Dickie Orr and lost her job with EE Martin Lingerie. Then she blackmailed her cousin Vinnie into a job. Now she earned just enough money selling underwear to little old ladies at Macy's for a POS car, an apartment and either food or new clothes; no better than working for Vinnie as a bounty hunter and a lot more boring.

Before she realized, she was back at her apartment on St. James. Her feet were numb, her shoes ruined, legs were burning from the cold and her ears were probably near frost bitten.

As she walked down the hall to her apartment, Dillon the manager caught up with her. "The boiler is out; there is no heat or hot water. Repairmen don't want to come out tonight, I'm doing what I can. Bundle up." There would be no hot shower to defrost. Her apartment was frigid; she rushed to her hamster Rex. He was alive, his fat layer was keeping him from freezing.

She shed her dress and stockings opting for heavy socks, sweat pants, t-shirt, sweat shirt with hood and several blankets. With Rex's aquarium next to her thigh on the couch, she wrapped them both in two blankets. Her stomach reminded her she had planned to cook the mac and cheese, but now didn't want to leave the couch's warmth. "Merry Christmas Rex," she uttered. The television movie was "It's a Wonderful Life" which she turned off immediately. There was nothing wonderful about her life right now.

The pounding on the door woke her up. Looking out the peep hole she saw Dillon, the manager. "We have no water. The city water line broke. Red Cross is evacuating everyone to a shelter if they have no other place to go."

Could it get much worse? Well, she did have Joe's house. She quickly redressed adding underwear plus boots, hat, gloves, a personal bag for herself, the frozen mac and cheese, Rex kibbles and of course Rex's abode carefully wrapped in a blanket. Once everything was in the POS car, she turned the key and the engine refused to squeak, moan or make any sound. The only sound was the idling engine of the Red Cross bus filling with fellow tenants waiting to be moved someplace warm. She joined them. As the bus moved through the near empty streets, snowflakes began to fall. Normally she'd be thrilled with a white Christmas, not tonight.

The Red Cross arranged motel had a strict no pet rule. Mrs. Kaminsky's cat, Mrs. Oberson's parrot, Rex as well as several other small service dogs were denied shelter. Red Cross wanted to call the animal shelter for emergency housing for the pets, but the owners refused to be separated from their animals. Another motel said they'd take the pets but their space was limited. Looking at her elderly neighbors and their pets, she decided they needed the rooms, she'd find someplace else. Reluctantly she called Rangeman Security.

"Rangeman, this is Manny, how may I help you?"

"This is Stephanie. I need help. My apartment is frozen, no heat or water. Red Cross has run out of motel space, can Rex and I crash there? I'll sleep on the floor somewhere. I also need a ride, my car is dead."

Manny asked where she was and sent a patrol to pick her up. Before Ranger moved to Miami, he gave strict orders Stephanie's pleas for help would go unanswered, she now had Joe. Fortunately Manny was in the Christmas spirit and didn't really care for Ranger's edict. Since Tank was also away, Manny didn't hesitate to answer her plea.

She walked into Rangeman in her sweats, boots, hat, her messenger bag stuffed with extra underwear and personal items and two blankets thrown over her shoulders, and Rex. She went up to the fifth floor break room. Rex would have water and hopefully she would find a sandwich. It felt strange being here. She didn't belong. When she took Joe's ring, Ranger left without a word. Tonight she seriously began to wonder if she made the right choice. The novelty of the engagement had worn off. Since the engagement Joe had become less charming. There were no more quick peeks down her blouse, no stealing bite of her doughnut, abusive sex, and no laughter. He blamed work stress but she began to think it was something more. Joe beat Ranger, the prize, Stephanie, wasn't important. The two men were in competition, a pissing match, and Ranger lost.

She set Rex onto the counter and ate a turkey sandwich and an apple, giving Rex a chunk as a Christmas present. He wiggled his whiskers in appreciation. Vince walked into the break room, "What are you doing here?" The statement wasn't accusatory but surprised.

"I was going to church with Joe and his family but he got called out. I went to my folks'….. that didn't work out. So I walked back to my apartment. When I got there the boiler is out, no heat and the water lines are broken, so no water. My car died, motels either don't take pets or they are full. No room in the inn for me. This is my last warm shot other than the bus depot.

We have an open apartment, do you want to stay there?

She noticed she wasn't offered Ranger's seventh floor apartment. "No, it wouldn't be right. Here is fine. Rex and I are warm, that's all that matters tonight."

She was slumped over the table with a blanket throw over her shoulder, asleep, when the first shift came in for their first cup of coffee. "Bomber?" Cal asked in disbelief.

"Merry Christmas," she said cheerfully as she was happy to see her friends again.

"What are you doing here?"

Once again she went through the litany of her evenings' problems.

"You walked home? What time? Isn't Joe's closer?"

"His pantry is barer than mine."

"Do you want me to take you to Joe's?" Cal asked.

"If it's no trouble." Her heart sank, she was being shuffled out as quickly as possible.

Cal prewarmed the big SUV so she and Rex wouldn't be cold on the ride. "I appreciate you letting me bunk in the break room."

"You slept in the break room? Why didn't you take an apartment?"

"Seventh floor is Rangers nor did I think is couch would be a suitable alterative." Plus the emotional impact of being back in Ranger's apartment would be overwhelming, especially now."

"Actually, Lester is living on 7, Tank has moved into the big office. Lester has moved into Tank's office."

The clenching in her stomach was painful. Ranger gave up his apartment. He really wasn't coming back.

A heavy snow storm passed through Trenton sometime after midnight. The streets were still snow-packed. Christmas morning services wouldn't start for several hours. Everything was quiet as the sounds were muffled by the new white blanket.

"Glad the snow held off until later. I wasn't wearing shoes for this much snow," she commented as she watched the winter wonderland pass by the car window. As they turned onto Joe's street, there were no tire tracks on the road. Nobody had yet ventured out. Joe's car was in his driveway. The roof was covered in snow indicating it had been there during the storm. "When did he get back?" she asked quietly. The house door was open, Joe and a blond came outside, turned and embraced in a passionate good bye kiss. They both laughed and the woman proceeded to her silver Mercedes at the curb, also covered with snow. Terry Gilman. The snow didn't lie; she had been parked there since at least midnight. Stephanie slid down in her seat to avoid being seen. Cal wisely kept on driving.

Joe's call-out was to meet with Terry Gilman. Stephanie kept her eyes trained forward but they could no longer see. Her body was rock-like; hard, cold, unseeing, unfeeling and unmoving. There were not words, no tears.

Cal was returning to Haywood where she knew she didn't belong, but she had only a cold apartment building, too cold for Rex. When Cal stopped at a red light, Steph slipped off her seat belt, opened the door and as she slid out she said, "Keep Rex warm."

"Bomber, wait!" Cal cried, but Steph was gone.

She began walking in the opposite direction of Rangeman, her blanket wrapped around her body. Cal quickly found a parking space in the next block, jumped out and ran after her. She found a tire track in the snow and ran down it, avoiding leaving foot prints until she could angle back to the main street, cross it and hopefully throw off her pursuer. Cal realized she knew how to avoid being followed and called for backup while he returned to his car and began driving a grid pattern.

She used her evasive skills wisely but didn't get far. Rangeman were trained trackers. After only a few blocks she turned a corner and walked into a black jacketed chest. "Where are you going?" Bobby asked. He was dressed in a black parka, beanie cap and gloves.

"To get my car. I'm leaving." She had forgotten her car was dead.

"You are going the wrong way."

"Oh," she uttered and tried to start walking in another direction. Bobby didn't grab her but started walking beside her.

"Where will you go when you get your car?"

"Far away where nobody knows me, not Joe, not the Plums, nobody in the Burg."

"Come back to Rangeman with me," he said gently.

"No, it hurts worse there. It was the only place I received acceptance and I turned my back on you."

"You never turned your back on us."

"Joe said I could never see any of you again. I chose Joe over all of you; another of my Stephanie Plum-bombs. Everything has blown up in my face."

Cal's SUV rolled up and stopped next to her. "Come on," Bobby said as he took her arm, "We'll go back to your apartment to get clothes and a jacket."

They never got to her apartment. As they neared St. James, the street was blocked with firetrucks. Her apartment building was totally ablaze. The broken water main was hampering fire-fighting efforts. It no longer mattered the boiler and water line were broken, there was no longer an apartment building.

"We'll take you back to Haywood," Bobby whispered.

"NO! I don't belong there. I don't belong anywhere. I've lost everything; Ranger, my apartment, my job…Let me go, let me go." She tried to leave but was trapped as Cal had overridden the door locks. Pounding on the door and windows, "Let me out!" Bobby tried to contain her, "Bomber, Stephanie, take it easy." The kicking and biting Stephanie fought back. Bobby wrapped his arms around her to keep her from thrashing around and possibly injuring the driver, Cal. Her anger or terror continued until it suddenly stopped. She completely shut down as if her brain and soul quit, only her heart beat.

Bobby tried to talk to her, but she remained unseeing and unresponsive. She was in a near catatonic state.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **Thank you to someone here for the nickname, Curls, for Stephanie. I'm using it, hopefully with your blessing.**

 **A/N: Note: If you are sending message as a Guest and not as a registered part of FF your messages aren't posted nor can I write back thank you for your kind words. Rest assured I read all!**

Christmas Day, December 25th, Joe actually received a call out and never made it to the Plum house. He saw the burned out apartment and assumed Stephanie was with her family. He didn't bother calling her knowing he'd be invited for dinner and he couldn't face the inebriated Helen Plum. He didn't get home until after 8 pm, so scrambled eggs and made toast for dinner.

The morning of the 26th he went to the Plum house to collect Stephanie and take her to his house. Frankly he was surprised she hadn't called. "We thought she was with you! She left to change clothes before Mass," Grandma Mazur said, "Helen didn't like what she was wearing."

"Christmas Eve? How did she leave?" he asked.

Grandma Mazur rolled her dentures around her mouth, "I assume her car."

"No, I brought her over here. You mean she planned to walk to my house alone?"

"Maybe she went to her apartment," the old lady said.

When Joe went to the burned apartment, he found Dillon the apartment manager talking with the fire marshal. "Stephanie was part of the evacuation to the motel except the motel wouldn't allow pets and the new motel didn't have enough room." After that he didn't know where she went. Her car was still in the parking lot.

Joe tried Mary Lou, Lula and Connie. He then tried Rangeman.

"Ranger lives in Miami, but he is currently out of the country," Bobby told Morelli.

"Is Stephanie living here?" Joe asked.

"The reports on the 24th show she called at 23:45 asking for assistance from one of our patrols. She and her hamster were without shelter due to a water and boiler problem at her apartment. She also stated her car was dead. Patrol picked her up at King's Inn where Red Cross was trying to find rooms for all the evacuees, but they ran out. At 01:10 on the 25th she was picked up by patrol three and arrived here at 01:37. She remained in the Break Room on fifth floor refusing accommodations and left the next morning at 08:10 with Cal."

"I'd need to talk to him."

Cal entered the main lobby trying to control his temper. He wanted nothing more than to pound Morelli's two-timing ass into sand.

"Where did you take Stephanie the morning of the 25th? Joe asked.

"I drove her to your house where she saw Terry Gilman in your arms in the front yard. She wanted to return to her apartment but it was fully engaged in fire. She refused to return to Rangeman saying she was no longer an employee and instead fled on foot with only a blanket and her messenger bag. You might look for her in shelters, bus or train station, wherever the destitute, homeless people congregate. She has nothing now."

"Why aren't you out looking for her?"

Bobby jumped in, "Isn't that the responsibility of her fiancée or family? Do you want to hire us to do your job _Detective_ Morelli?" Bobby asked with more than a hint of sarcasm. "Frankly I can't imagine she wants to be found. All she had after the fire was Rex and she left him to our care. Her life is in ruins; no home, no car, and a cheating fiancé. She gave up her job here to marry you."

"What job? Ranger's whore?"

Bobby stopped Cal from hitting Morelli. "She was our search and background coordinator, instrumental in locating many FTAs as well as providing excellent background on clients and new hires. Ranger's work takes him out of town for long periods. He thought you would be a better husband, but gave her the choice. She accepted your ring, so Ranger moved to Miami to continue his work."

"What being a thug?"

Bobby took several breaths before answering, "He represents several government agencies around the world."

"He's more likely a drug runner and enforcer like the rest of you Jersey penal system graduates."

Shaking his head Bobby answered slowly, "Morelli, I wonder why you still have a job since obviously you are an uneducated dolt. Ninety percent of Rangeman employees have no jail time of any type on their records. How many nights did you spend in the brig while in the Navy or here in Trenton when you were an FTA? Rangeman employees are mostly retired military, primarily Special Forces and MPs. What was your job in the Navy Morelli? Cooks assistant I've heard. So you can make shit on a shingle, congratulations."

Joe was turning red, but Bobby continued, "You think yourself the cock of the walk here but Carlos Manoso works with and is respected by business enterprises, military and intelligence agencies. He wanted his men, those he led in combat and those now leaving service, to have a job after serving their country. He and three others started Rangeman Securities. We have offices in Trenton, Miami, Boston, and Atlanta. What have you done Mr. Morelli? Rise to a semi competent detective in a moderate size police force and screw most of the women in Trenton for entertainment?"

The vein on Joe's face was turning purple. "What's your story, Sambo?"

Bobby almost smiled, he knew this whole exchange was being recorded and if need be, sent to the Chief of Police. Bobby reinforced his neutral face and remained at parade rest. Cal behind him wasn't quite as relaxed. " _De-fective_ Morelli, how many times have you seen me in surgical scrubs at St. Francis or Helen Fund but failed to recognize me because as you say, all African men look like baboons? I'm a trauma specialist, more specifically a medical doctor thanks to the Army. I was also a Special Forces Ranger, not a cook's assistant. Finally, I am one of Rangeman's owners."

Joe had no retort. He stormed out of Rangeman. Cal shook his head, "Sad to think Stephanie thought him marriage material."

"No, her mother did…most likely still does."

 **00000**

The room was light, but not bathed in sunlight. This wasn't her apartment nor was this a motel room with mundane art on the walls, block out curtains on the window and short pile carpeting on the floor. This wasn't a sterile institutional room, pale walls a single bed and chair. Instead the walls were a golden cream color, hardwood floor, raised wood and beam ceiling. The king size bed had heavy silken sheets like the ones on Ranger's bed. The thick duvet was a warm gold. Two wooden nightstands flanked the bed with simple lamps. A dresser matching the nightstands stood along the far wall. Framed impressionistic landscape paintings hung in the wall near the bed; they were not prints but looked like originals. The other wall was dominated by a window which framed a snowed covered forest scene beyond.

She looked under the covers and found she was still in her sweats, only her boots had been removed. She left the bed and began exploring and desperately looking for a bathroom. An adjacent dressing room and closet held clothes resembling those she had abandoned at Rangeman months ago.

Beyond was the bathroom; oversized shower, separate oversized tub, toilet and double sinks on a granite counter. On the counter were her toiletries from her handbag laid out on the counter.

She decided to shower. The soap was masculine and familiar. The shampoo and conditioner were not her brand but it was no time to be picky. A drawer contained a hair dryer and hair bands. After dressing she went to explore and discover where she was. There was no sign on the door indicating check out time or card slot for room entry. This was probably a private residence. Opening the door she had a choice, left or right. Right looked to go to other bedroom doors. She went left onto a balcony over-looking the large room below. The far wall was apparently windows but shades were drawn over all. Another wall was dominated by a stone fireplace with a metal and glass insert. Flames could be seen through the glass and the room was toasty. Several large leather couches and chairs created a seating area. Sitting on one of the oversized chairs was Tank, reading a book.

He looked up and acknowledged her presence. The stairs were to the right and she went down to the main floor.

"You hungry Baby Girl?" he asked as she entered the main room.

Stephanie looked around, confused, "Where am I?" The room was far larger than she thought from upstairs.

"Where isn't important," he said. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Sandwich and apple at Rangeman."

"And before that?"

"Ah, not much dinner. I'm not wild about shellfish."

"Was that Christmas Eve?"

"Yes."

"That was several days ago, you must be hungry," he said as he stood.

"No, I'm not. I don't think anything would stay down even if I was hungry." Looking around, "I'll ask again, where am I?"

Tank walked to the long wall and opened the shades. The ocean beyond was broody, grey, much like the sky. Snow had been removed from the deck but remained several inches deep on the railing. "Somewhere along the coast. I know how much you like the ocean," he said gently.

"Point Pleasant?" she asked hopefully.

"No, far from there and Trenton. This is an isolated area. I come here to think, decompress. It's my private retreat, nobody knows about it."

"This is your place?" she asked with wonder as she looked around the room. The entire 5th floor work area including Ranger's and Tank's office would fit in this room.

"It's mine but the paper trail is purposely convoluted. Even Ranger doesn't know about this," he said shyly.

"Why am I here?"

"What else do you have? Not your apartment, not your parents', not Joe's.

She was momentarily confused. "What's wrong with my apartment?" Then suddenly the vision of her building ablaze filled her head. She moved to the nearest couch and collapsed onto it. "It's gone." A second vision appeared, Christmas morning in front of Joe's house." She was crestfallen, "You know about Joe?"

"Cal told me and it's on the video from the SUV," he said softly. He gave her time then asked, "Why wouldn't you let Bobby take you back to Haywood?"

"I don't work there or belong there…or anywhere. Everything is gone, I have nothing, I am nothing…"

He came over and sat beside her on the couch taking her right hand into his massive left paw. "Don't go down there."

"I was at a crossroads in my life and I took the wrong road. Now I have nothing except my POS car that won't start." Looking down at her engagement ring, "And this which is worthless."

"You could probably get something for it," he said.

"No, not only is the engagement worthless, so is the ring."

"Worthless?"

"I took it to a jeweler to be resized and learned it was cubic zirconia on silver. I wish Joe had told me he couldn't afford a diamond. Maybe it was due to police pay….or something…"

She sat still for a while staring at the ocean before she started to speak again. "Christmas Eve we were at Angie Morelli's when he was called out. He said he wouldn't get back until late Christmas Day. Silly me, I assumed it was police business." Letting go of Tank's hand, she got up and began pacing, "His car was covered with snow like everyone else's. It had been parked in the driveway all night along with Terry Gilman's silver Mercedes. As Cal and I drove by, the two lovebirds were…." She stopped. "What is today, Tank?"

"It's the afternoon of the 26th."

"Missed Christmas Day at the Plum house; another demerit from my mother," she sighed. "Wonder if Joe realizes or even cares I'm gone?"

"I'm sure the apartment building burning down caught his attention. He probably assumes you are with your folks and they assume you are with him."

She nodded. "I imagine my phone is packed with voicemails…or not. Who at Rangeman knows I'm here?"

"Just me. The employees saw you at Rangeman late Christmas Eve dressed in sweats wrapped in a blanket. You left with Cal after sunrise. Cal later returned with Rex and the story you fled when you saw the apartment on fire. It's all on tape. Cal and Bobby brought you to me. Cal returned to Rangeman after first dropping Bobby off at his car. I brought you here."

"What about trackers?"

"You don't have any since you took Joe's ring. I'm clean as well. Our cell phones can't be traced. Bobby went to Hector who found a traffic cam of you exiting Cal's vehicle and running off between the buildings. There are a few videos of Cal driving a grid, but none of you. Hector also eliminated tracker records showing them bring you to my house and Cal returning Bobby to his car. I'm on vacation, Bobby is in command. "

She looked down at her pseudo diamond engagement ring and slipped it off. "The gods really don't want me married."

"Do you want to be married?"

"My mother kept cramming it down my throat….wife, mother, children, live in the Burg. I'm not sure I want marriage anymore. I haven't seen a marriage yet worth the trouble. I'll have to continue selling underwear to old ladies and look forward to a paltry social security check in 35 years. "

"You'd die of boredom."

"Would it be worse than being a Burg wife?"

She looked beyond the room; the dining area held a table with six seating but there was more than enough room to double the number if the table expanded. The dining area was separated from the kitchen by a counter with four stools. Beyond was a kitchen suited to large catered affairs with massive refrigerator, 8 burner stove and four ovens. The cabinets were cherry with glass inserts, the countertops and backsplash was natural stone.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"You need time to think about your life; past, present, and especially the future. You can't change the past, but you can see how it influenced your present life. If you want to move forward, you need change, grow, develop a plan and follow through. That's why you are here. This is your last chance before you become something you'll regret."

"What?"

"An empty shell, living without hope."

"I think I'm there now," she sighed.

"Not quite, but getting close. You can stop and reverse."

"You make it sound easy, Tank, snap my fingers," she said as she moved back to the window. The winter storm was still churning the ocean, the waves were angry.

"It isn't, in fact it's damn hard. There are professionals who can help if you need it, but first you need to want it. Most of the guys at Rangeman have had problems, depression, PTSD but they've come through it. Each one wanted to get better, wanted to move on, wanted to leave as much of the past behind as …we could. We've helped each other, now I'm in a position to help you."

"Why do you want to help me?"

"Contrary to what you believe, maybe influenced by Joe, we….Rangeman…like you. Sure you came as Ranger's woman, but you proved yourself more than a piece of fluff. At first we admired your resiliency, not many women could crawl through dumpsters or survive the myriad of destroyed cars, shower off and appear in an extremely sexy outfit several hours later. Your feminine intuition or spidey sense far surpasses our caveman thinking. You also were not intimidated by us big ugly men, you treated us like brothers, cared for us, looked after us when we were injured…..now I'm doing the same for you."

"But Ranger is gone, I drove him away."

"Ranger is my best friend, but he's an ass. In fairness though, he had his reasons."

"How long will I be here?"

"However long you need. Here you are away from the forces that kept pulling you in different directions. I'll stay if you want or I'll leave and give you space."

"What if I want to leave?" She said as she sat back down on the couch.

"It's a long cold walk to civilization, you don't have a car. This is your last chance for a helping hand from any of us at Rangeman. Rick gave explicit orders you were not to be helped. Screw him. He's got his head up his rear as high as do yours. If you truly want to leave, I'll take you to the nearest town and from there you'll have to find your way to a bus depot. Trenton is several hundred miles away. I'll buy you a one way bus ticket to anywhere but Trenton."

"I'm starting to feel like a prisoner," she said as she slid into the chair Tank had vacated.

Tank allowed his anger to be seen. Usually the giant remains neutral. He rose quickly belying his size, "Typical of your self-centeredness, Bomber. You want to run, you feel like a prisoner. You haven't yet said it isn't fair or it's not your fault. You have a crappy mother, at least you have one. Mine abandoned me when I was 14, just left with her latest boyfriend leaving me with no home, nothing. Your father never paid attention to you, hell, I don't even know my father's name and I don't think my mother knew his name.

You have a college degree. What have you done with it? Hector, never graduated from high school, he was in prison, yet he runs IT. Manny, was given the choice; military or jail. For many of us it took the military to shake some sense into us and give us a purpose. For others it was jail. Even Ric, with two years at Rutgers didn't have his act together either.

What is it going to take to shake sense and discipline into you? If you were half as committed at improving yourself and instead of blaming others…Ranger wouldn't commit to you, Joe and Dickie screwed around, the Berg gossips, your mother, Bella and so on, we wouldn't be here now. You determine your own life, but you allow others to lead you around like donkey with a carrot suspended in front of you, but for you it's a doughnut."

Stephanie sat stunned. Not only were those more words she had ever heard Tank utter, she was stunned at the message. It was as if his giant hand had slapped her across the face.

He walked closer, "You have an amazing brain when you use it, but it is turned off more than on. What you lack are confidence, discipline and training."

"You make it sound like I need the military."

"It might not be a bad idea," he chuckled, "But God help your instructors." He moved away from her towards the windows, "With military training you learn to believe in yourself and how to apply your skills in achieving an objective. You, Steph don't have objectives, you live moment to moment. You do not believe in yourself, probably because you have few skills other than luck. Finally when you do fail, you fall to pieces. I have never seen a 30 something year old woman cry so damn much."

"You think I'll get discipline here?"

"Hell, it's Christmas, miracles happen. You sure as heck didn't take advantage of Ranger's and Rangeman's help. We offered to train you so you could become a licensed apprehension agent. You were low level bonds at best and even then you had trouble. With our training you could have been good, even great, but you were… lazy. We offered you a job in Rangeman's business side so you could use your business degree. You showed us hints of your business sense, but you said it would be… boring." He walked to the fireplace and added a few more split logs. "You are here to think about how you are going to live the rest of your life. If you want to continue to be an underachiever and just wish about being better, then the door to leave is there. If you want to take control of your life, be the person we've glimpsed, then I'll work with you. I'm not wasting my time on someone who wallows in laziness and self-pity." He walked out of the room and down stairs to a lower level.

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Stephanie retreated upstairs to the bedroom and flopped on her back on the bed. This was her favorite thinking position for as long as she could remember. She knew she was at the end of her rope, stuck in a pit, back against the wall….all those metaphors applied to her dire situation and she had no idea what to do.

She woke up to find someone sitting next to her. She blinked several times trying to identify the older man. "Hello, Curls," he said.

"Grandpa Mazur, what are you doing here?"

"I've come to take you on a road trip. I've got Big Blue outside, let's go places."

"You can't be here, you are dead."

"I've been waiting for Edna, but she still has spark left in her."

"Why are you here, wherever here is?" she said with frustration.

"To save you," he said with a smile. His smile always made his eyes sparkle and even though he was dead, the same sparkle was there. He was as much fun as Grandma Mazur, why couldn't she have been their child?

"Save me from what? Tank?"

"Yourself. You've always been headstrong, refusing to listen and learn from others, and are as lazy as a toad at the bottom of the well. Now it's led you to a dead end. That's a metaphor you forgot. Your giant friend and I are trying to stop the fall. You don't have a jacket so put on this robe, its cold out."

She did as she was told, donning the long navy velour robe with a hood. Big Blue, the 1953 baby blue and white Buick was already warm. They started down the road, completely snow packed, no tire prints. "Are we going far?" she asked.

"You are pretty isolated here Curls, it will take a while. Put your head back and rest." The old Buick had no head rests so she turned sideways and rested her head on the seat top and watched the snowy trees past the window, eventually falling asleep.

00000000

She woke in a cemetery. A very small casket stood on a bier beside the open grave. Her father and mother were holding each other and crying. Grandpa Mazur held a young girl with curls, Stephanie. Grandma Mazur held the hand of a girl about 3, Valerie.

"There was another baby?" Stephanie asked.

"Yes, Curls, they had a son, Anthony Franco Plum. He was a year younger than you. His death about destroyed your mother and their marriage."

"I've never seen the grave when we'd go visit the cemetery."

"It's in the children's section. Your mother and father visit it separately. It still is too painful for them to go together."

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Her Grandfather took her hand and suddenly she was outside her family house's kitchen door. A young Stephanie was sitting on the stoop, her arm in a cast, listening to her parent's inside. "Why didn't God take Stephanie and leave our son? Look at her, injured again, her bicycle is ruined, she could have been killed because she didn't look where she was riding. We can't afford a new bike for her until Christmas."

Another voice answered, "She's a tomboy Helen." The voice sounded like her father.

"I don't want a tomboy, I don't want another daughter, I have beautiful Valerie. I want a son," Helen said angrily.

"The doctors said you can't have more children."

"She is costing us a fortune in hospital bills, ruined clothes and shoes. She's won't listen to anyone. She fights us on everything because she wants everything her own way. She's so…selfish. Her teachers say she's lazy and inattentive, always daydreaming. One teacher thought she might be mentally deficient."

"They gave her an IQ test didn't they?" her father asked.

"Yes and its way higher than average but she won't apply herself. Her grades are mediocre; she never finishes what she starts she just runs around like she's some comic book character with super powers. Actions and consequences mean nothing to her."

00000000

The scene disappeared and refocused on the Morelli back yard. The neighborhood children were playing and moving from one yard to another. She, her cousin Eddie Gazarra, Mary Lou and other neighbor children were blowing bubbles into the wind with the wire hoop and soap solution. "I need to pee," she said as she danced around.

"Go ask Mrs. Morelli if you can use her bathroom, otherwise you'll have to go behind the garage like a boy.

"I can't do that; I'll get my socks muddy!"

Mrs. Morelli begrudging gave her permission, "Be quick and use soap when you wash your hands. I just changed the towels; I don't want to see dirty hand prints."

When Stephanie finished she went back to the kitchen, "Thank you Mrs. Morelli." She had no sooner walked out the door when Mrs. Morelli screamed, "Stephanie Plum, get back in here!"

She went in and saw Mrs. Morelli pointing to the carpeting. "You didn't wipe your feet and now have tracked mud through the house. God gave you a brain, why don't you use it? If you were my daughter I'd take you over my knee."

When she ran back outside the play group had moved to Tony Scorrizo's yard. On her way to join them, Joe Morelli stepped out from behind the garage. "Wanna play Choo-Choo, Stephanie?"

"No, no, you don't need to see that again Curl's," her grandpa said. "Let's move on."

00000000

The scene changed to her bedroom. Nine year old Stephanie was arguing with her mother about wearing a dress to the Knights of Columbus Children's Christmas Party. "I told you to be home by four so you cold bathe before getting dressed. It's nearly 5 o'clock and look at you, covered in mud like a pig and bleeding. Now go wash at the sink with plenty of soap and water and a new washcloth. Return and put on this blue dress."

"I don't want to wear a dress," the young Stephanie said stamping her foot and waving her arms about.

Her mother grabbed her arm and held tight, "Don't argue with me missy, this is the only nice thing I have ironed for you. All the girls must wear dresses. You don't want others to think the Plums don't know how to raise their children properly."

"I'll get my tights all bloody," she sniffled.

"You'll wear the lace anklets socks with your shoes."

"I'm not a child, I will not wear little white socks," she said pulling away from her mother.

Helen Plum gritted her teeth, "Stephanie Michelle Plum you will wear what I tell you or there will be no Christmas presents and no desserts for you for a month."

00000000

A Christmas tree was on the auditorium stage decorated with paper chains made by the kindergarten class. The first grade had made starts from straws and glitter. Her class would be the chorus for the Christmas play. Stephanie watched herself march with her class single file from the back of the room to the risers in front of the stage. Stephanie was tall for an eleven year old and should have been on the far side of the risers, but ended up in the front row away from the piano. She felt awkward but knew it was for a reason; she had a solo part in an upcoming song. When her time came, she sang with all her heart much to the delight of the choir director Mrs. Horner and the audience. They applauded, applauded just for her! Her heart swelled with joy and she looked into the audience wanting to share the joy with her mother, but she only saw Grandmother Mazur. Neither her mother nor father was present. It was her mother's day to have her hair done.

"You had a lovely voice, Curls', why did you stop singing?"

00000000

Her grandfather took her hand once again. This time they were standing outside Tasty Pastry. Inside the 16 year old Stephanie Plum was preparing to close the bakery. Joe Morelli walked past the two of them, unseeing and went into the shop, turning the open sign around to "closed."

"Grandpa, I don't want to see this."

"Curls, you need to remember it correctly, you've been romanticizing it."

Stephanie always remembered she was flattered by Joe's indecent proposal since he was the hot Joe Morelli. Many girls had given their virginity to Joe and she felt a bit left out. When Joe came through the door she was curious but unsure. What she saw through her adult eyes this time was pure and simple rape. The kissing she remembered was his mouth over hers keeping her screams from being heard. She tried to kick him but instead gave him access between her legs. He kneeled on her legs as he unwrapped his condom then tore her underwear. The rest was fast and vicious. When he finished he laughed, "You were the last on my list. Now I'm King of Trenton. Don't think you were anything special, it was just like banging a cupcake."

The scene changed. She was back in the Plum kitchen. Her mother had seen her disarray and was grilling her about it. When she admitted Joe had "kinda" forced himself on her, Helen went ballistic, "You whore, you slut!" The intensity of her mother's castigation was intense. "So help me if you are pregnant, you will marry him! I will not allow our name to be sullied by the likes of you."

"He's going into the Navy tomorrow."

"Provisions can be made. In the mean time you are grounded for the entire summer until we know if you are pregnant. You will not spread your legs for any other boy or man until you are properly married."

Valerie came home and told her mother about the graffiti on the stadium walls about Joe's conquest, once again it was Stephanie's fault, not Joe Morelli.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 **Thank you all for your kind words and encouragement. Sorry I'm not keeping up with the dates in the story...but I'm close.**

December 27th

She woke up cold, shivering under the golden duvet still wearing the long hooded robe. Her boots were beside the bed. The nearby clock read 3:47 a.m. She continued to shiver, nearly uncontrollably. Throwing off the duvet and removing the robe she went to the bathroom and took a long, hot bath and dressed in another pair of yoga pants and two long sleeve t-shirts left over from Rangeman days. Her boots were wet, so she found socks and called her feet covered.

The living room was dark; the fireplace glowed with red embers. She added more split wood to the fire box and opened the vents as Tank had shown her. The new wood caught fire, she sat and watched the flames. Tears tricked down her face, she didn't understand what happened. Was it a dream; reaction to Christmas Eve and Day? A brother who died? Would her life have been any different if she had a younger brother? Other than a playmate, no her mother would have insisted she be more like Valerie. None of the dreams had a loving mother. There was no love from Helen Plum. Hugs were for Valerie along with words of praise. Stephanie received instruction, correction. Surely her mother loved her enough to correct her. A proper Berg woman, that was what her mother wanted her to become.

Tank appeared quietly just after 5 a.m. "You got the fire going, good. You are up early, couldn't sleep?"

"Not well."

"I'll get breakfast."

"Just toast and coffee for me, please, I'm still not hungry," she called after him. Food was the last thing on her mind.

Tank paused, "You haven't eaten for several days, do you feel OK?"

She didn't tell Tank why she hadn't slept well. Rising she scrubbed her face with her hands to wipe away tear residue and followed him into the kitchen to watch how to set up the coffee maker.

The coffee bag read Café Bustelo. It brewed a richer somewhat foreign coffee. "Cuban style coffee, obviously you know where I picked up the habit," he said with a smile.

"You have any sugar for the coffee?" The coffee was different, stronger, bolder than her usual brew.

He shook his head no trying to avoid looking at her red puffy eyes. "Nothing sweet in the house, not even jelly. Ric and I are a lot alike in that regard. I never had sugar growing up, never developed a taste. He has it occasionally at his parents' house with family dessert."

She put down her mug and walked to the sink and splashed water on her face, wiping it off with paper towels. "I promise no more tears. I know it upsets you. We women don't internalize, we get it out. I'll try harder to keep it together."

"I shouldn't have said anything last night, you were fragile. I haven't been around women much in my life. You are my….role model."

She snorted, "Lucky you."

As she nibbled on her toast and Tank ate a full meal, he cleared his throat. "I dumped a lot on you yesterday. I lost my temper, I'm sorry. I really don't know how to treat you. Please stay here, use this place to think and decompress like I use it. To give you privacy, I'm leaving for a few days. If you totally reject staying here, I will return you to Trenton now where you have no apartment, no car, no clothes, no Joe, no family and no Rangeman. I don't know about your job at Macy's."

She put down her toast, it wasn't sitting well.

"If you stay behind, you will be on your own for three or four days before I return. The wood stove supplements the house furnace. Even if you let the fire go out, the house should remain around 63 degrees. There is a laundry room, your clothing selection is limited, you'll be washing them often. If you run out, feel free to wear mine, though they will be too big. The nearest food source is a café over an hour away when the road is clear, you don't have a car especially a 4 wheel drive. The kitchen is stocked, maybe not with cereals, pizza, ice cream or alcohol, but you will not starve. You will have to cook if you want to eat. I've left a list of meals you can prepare and a cookbook to go with a stocked freezer and refrigerator. "

She had a panicked look.

He chuckled, "You thought I'd leave you with MREs? Trust me eating those will bind you up faster than Quik-Set cement. There are emergency dried soups for when the power goes out and you have to cook at the fireplace.

While I'm away I will purchase what personal items you need; Clothing, shoes, hair care, ladies' products. Here's a tablet and pen, write down what you will need."

"What if I forget something?"

"Don't, it's a long, long way to Macy's or CVS. You might be here several months."

"So I have two choices: Go back to nothing or stay for months and do what?"

"Work on yourself. What do you want to do, to be? Where do you want to be? How will you get there? You are undisciplined, stubborn, and lazy. I said before and I'm repeating it now, I am willing to work with you to overcome these….problems. I've helped others and others have helped me." He stopped and smiled, "There's always the other option, the one I took, Ric, Lester, Manny, Hal and Ram also took; that's only the short list."

"The Army?" Her eyes opened wide showing the beautiful blue that so captivated Ranger.

"Not just the Army, Ram was a Navy SEAL. There are other services; with your love of the ocean you might like the Navy or Coast Guard. You are still young enough, but not for much longer. You'd have a roof over your head most of the time," he smiled. "You are fed, clothed and trained while receiving a…stipend. As a college graduate, you might qualify for OCS, officer's candidate school, but you lack the discipline unless you are a star recruit in basic training. It would get you away from Trenton and allow you to start over and grow."

She sat dumbfounded. Did she want to return to Trenton? It was her home; but now felt like nothing more than her birthplace. Did she want to go into the military? Surely not combat, though she has been in plenty of bad situations, even using lethal force. There were other jobs and more opening every day. She shook her head, "One step at a time, Stephanie." Right now she did not want to go back to Trenton. That would be her first step.

She handed her shopping list to Tank. He looked….surprised and maybe relieved, "So you are not coming back with me."

"No, I need to get myself together."

"Good. When you begin to get stir crazy, go downstairs, ride the bike, run on the treadmill, but be careful outside. The beach isn't all sand and calm like Point Pleasant."

She pointed to her feet, "No shoes, only snow boots."

"Make sure your shoe size is on the list, if there's a brand that fits better, put it down." He walked up to her and lifted her to her feet and hugged her, "You can do this Baby Girl."

"Tank, were you serious about the military?"

"I was. You are a scrapper. You'd make a hell of an MP," he said laughing. "Nearly every man on base would wear their cups just knowing you were around."

For the first time, she laughed. "Yeah, I could see myself doing that. It's something to think about. Maybe move into investigative services when my knee gave out. By the way, I never knew you could talk more than five words at a time."

"I can't."

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It was a long drive back to a paved road and nearly six hours back to Trenton. Stephanie had cleared the first hurdle, she didn't run. He wanted to talk to Bobby, fill him in on what was happening. If Stephanie stayed, he'd need extended leave to be with her. He shook his head, could she really survive in the military? He'd do his best to prepare her if that's the route she wants to take.

When he got to Newark he put his phone back together and chuckled at all the missed calls. His favorite was from Bobby, "You are missing a real show here in town. Stop by the office when you can." He noticed the message was only a few hours old, but decided to spend the rest of the day gathering supplies. He'd be in the office tomorrow.

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Joe waited for Stephanie to call or come home. Instead his phone messages were from Helen Plum demanding answers, why hadn't Stephanie called her. By Noon on the 27th he knew he'd have to make more of an effort to find her.

When he walked into TPDs lobby several officers were giving him strange looks. Eddie Gazarra, Stephanie's cousin walked up to Joe, "You SOB" and took a swing. The hit was perfect, knocking Joe on his ass.

"What the hell?" Joe gasped as he rubbed his jaw. Nobody went to help Joe to his feet or restrain Eddie. Several looked like they'd like their own shot at Joe's face…or lower.

"You were fucking Terry Gilman on Christmas Eve while your fiancé's apartment burned to the ground. Did Terry have her mob-boss uncle burn Stephanie's apartment to get rid of her?"

"How the hell…" Joe jumped to his feet.

Eddie flipped his cell phone around and showed Joe the photo of him and Terry in their amorous clutch out front of Joe's house. The caption below read, "Look who filled Terry's stocking Christmas Eve while Stephanie's apt. burned." The snow on Joe's truck and Terry's car clearly showed they had been in place through the snow storm early Christmas morning. "Your neighbor snapped the photo and sent it around the Berg asking who the woman was since it didn't look like Stephanie. Somebody else added the caption."

Now the Burg gossip line was burning bright. It didn't matter the apartment fire cause was a space heater on the first floor, that wasn't as titillating as front yard adultery, arson, and a missing fiancée.

00000000

Stephanie cleaned up the kitchen after Tank left, poured the rest of the coffee into a jar and set it in the refrigerator to be reheated later. The next activity was to explore Tank's house inch by inch. It was impolite but she was confused, who is this Tank and why does have this multi-million dollar mansion in the middle of nowhere? There were six bedrooms, 2 large like hers with baths and four bedrooms with a bathroom between two rooms. The house décor was simple, creams and golds, wood floors and high ceilings. The furnishings were good woods and leathers. The basement or lower level held Tank's gym he eluded to containing nearly all the equipment the Rangeman gym contained including a mat. The laundry facility was bright and airy, unlike the dark dungeon in her former apartment building. There were two sets of washers and dryers. Yes, he wore big sizes but did he need two washers at a time? The biggest surprise was an art studio with a glass wall leading to a private deck overlooking the ocean and the forest. The room smelled of oil paint…Tank was an artist! She walked over to the easel and examined a painting in progress. Though early in the painting's development she saw his sketch lines for a landscape, winter scene showing the snowy forest contrasted against the ocean. Her mind flashed back to the paintings in her bedroom. Where those his?

She found no TV in any room, but did find several very cleverly disguised speakers and suspected he had a home network but she had no way to access it without her phone. Not only would she go through sugar withdrawal, she was going through electronics withdrawal! Perhaps he knew of her upcoming melt-downs and left before he was caught in cacophony.

Another surprise was the library/study/office. The book collection was impressive, several hundred books. An e-reader sat on the desk with several hundred books downloaded, but no access to the internet for more downloads. The books both paper and electric ranged from fiction to history, literature in several foreign languages. Did Tank speak French, Spanish and Russian? There were also psychology and modern self help books. She wondered if the later were added for her, but when would he have bought them? How would he know….no, maybe they were for him.

Once she had toured the inside, she put on her boots and taking one of Tank's jackets which was way too large, to walk around outside. The snow was only six inches keep, not excessive. The back deck was roomy, easily accommodating a crowd. A niche turned out to be an outdoor kitchen, wrapped and insulated for winter. She wondered if he ever entertained. Stairs led down to a large flat area, there was probably a lawn underneath the snow. A well-defined path lead down to the beach and water. She walked around the grey house admiring the architecture, large windows which captured the lovely views whether the ocean or the woods. A separate grey building turned out to be a 4 car garage and work shop, perhaps with an apartment upstairs. Tire tracks through the snow showed Tank's bringing her here and his exit this morning. A very large wood pile for the fireplace held several cords of wood, some held split wood; other were yet to be split.

The front drive disappeared into the woods. Walking down the road for twenty minutes she couldn't see or hear an intersecting road; Tank did say they were isolated. She had no idea where she was, probably north of Trenton. If she knew her trees identifying them might help with her location, but she was clueless. The monster called her stomach roared for the first time since she arrived. Walking around back, she grabbed an armload of split wood for the fireplace before entering the house. Out of habit, she locked the door behind her. While she doubted people were around, she didn't need a moose walking in.

Prominently displayed on the kitchen counter was a beginner's book from Betty Crocker. As she flipped through the pages she sighed. Tank indicated which items she should start with and included where in the kitchen the items could be found. She found the potatoes in….the potato drawer. Was that common? Reading the cookbook instructions she first turned on the oven. Step one complete. After scrubbing and pricking the four spuds she put them into the oven. Ninety minutes later she had baked potatoes and real butter for her first home cooked meal. Who thought Tank would have real butter in the house? There was no cheese or milk, but then she did remember pretty much only those with European/Scandinavian genes could consume milk products especially as adults. While Lula could down a milkshake she knew other darker skinned friends from school who could not. She found an apple for dessert. Two apples in one week, must be a record. Ranger would be proud…damn, that started her eyes leaking.

Returning to the library she found a book, "How to Unf**k your Life and Retain your Sanity." (A/N hopefully not a real title). Yep this was a book for her and she went back upstairs to the living room and the fireplace. She found the yellow paper tablet Tank had given her for a shopping list and set with the book to read and take notes.

Hours later, the sky was darkening. She lowered the shades, stoked the fire and went in search of an evening meal. Tonight she'd settle for a left over cold potato, an orange and a handful of carrots; at least she'd get her vitamins A and C. Tomorrow she would figure out how to cook eggs.

After cranking down the stove for the night following Tank's instructions, she took her book and went to bed to read.

00000000

She entered the bedroom to find her grandpa was sitting on the dressing chair, "Hi Curls, put on your robe, we'll take another trip."

Was she asleep? Had she already come to bed and this was another dream?

"Grandpa, I'm not sure I'm ready for another trip like the last one. My pillow was soaked from the tears."

"This one will be important. Actually they all are important. Get your robe, you looked ridiculous in the big man's jacket, and let's get going."

She froze for a moment, "Grandpa, how did you know about me wearing Tank's jacket."

He waved his hands back and forth, "I never studied astrophysics so I can't explain it and I know you wouldn't understand if I could."

"Space time continuum?"

"No. Diesel can explain it."

Stephanie groaned, "You know Diesel?"

"We've met, he used to pop in for dinner when he was younger. Now hurry up, we have many places to visit."

"How young was Diesel when he "popped" in?"

"About 7 or 8. He loved Edna's coffee cake, she put cardamom in it, now come on we have a lot to do."

"Grandma Mazur misses you," she said as she bundled up. "Was she always so….sexual?"

He laughed, "Why do you think I died early! Edna was something! You know I died in bed, don't you? Those little blue pills had an unexpected side effect, but of all the ways to go, that was the best. Edna has never forgiven me though; she scolds me every time she comes to the cemetery…..when nobody can hear her."

"Mama isn't….. that way," Stephane said.

"Guess it jumps a generation Curls," he winked. "I miss Edna. She had…and still has such a spark, but she gossips too much. It's a nasty habit that the Burg can't break. I told her over and over it was bad for her soul but she said it was entertainment, it wouldn't hurt anyone."

"That's not true."

"No Curls, you've been terribly hurt by those wagging tongues. She knows she hurts you but now it's a very bad habit and she can't stop."

Stephanie fell asleep in Big Blue, again. When she woke up she and her grandfather were at a wedding, her wedding to Dickie Orr. As they stood in the side aisle invisible to all Stephanie said, "Grandpa, the only thing we had in common was he wanted to be a bigshot attorney and my mother wanted me to be married to a big shot attorney."

"Look at your face, Curls, you were already doubting the union. Look at your mother, she's so proud."

"Grandma looks sad."

"She knew it wouldn't last, but never thought it would be completely over in six months."

Stephanie looked at Dickie remembering he wanted a wife who in bed was a contortionist with no inhibitions. She was reluctant to his urgings before the marriage and still reluctant after. He found his able and willing partner with Joyce Barnhardt on the dining room table. Helen blamed her daughter.

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The next scene Stephanie watched herself blackmailing her cousin Vincent Plum into a job. "That took a set, Curls," grandpa said proudly.

"He wanted me to do low level bonds, I needed more money like Joe Morelli. I wish I had listened to him."

She watched herself crawl into the dumpster looking for the car keys Joe threw in to keep her from following him. The scene moved quickly to the café with Carlos Manoso, dressed in camo, hair tied behind his head, listening to her tell him she wanted to be a bounty hunter. Final scene, she was handcuffed naked to the shower rod by Joe Morelli and Ranger rescued her.

"He was a gentleman; he could have had his way with you right then and there."

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The next scene is the bridge over the Delaware River. Stephanie is hanging by her ankles from the bridge. Ranger was crawling out to get her when the rope broke. He didn't hesitate to dive in after her. What she saw for the first time was the fear in his eyes. Fear for her.

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The scene changed to Ranger rushing down the road in his Mercedes, "Don't let it be Babe, please God don't let it be Babe." He arrived to find his beloved 911 Porsche flattened and burned by an overturned garbage truck. Relief flooded him when he saw her standing with Lula, safe.

"How many of his cars have you totaled, Curls?"

"They weren't my fault."

"There you go, diffusing the blame with that lame excuse you've used it all your life when in reality the fault is your inattention or poor judgements."

"How was I to prevent the garbage truck falling on the car?"

"By backing up and giving the large vehicle the right of way."

"How was I to prevent being hung from the bridge?"

"You put yourself in a vulnerable position, allowing your back up, worthless Lula, to wander away. You worked a dangerous job but you refused to take your own safety seriously. Where was your training? You refused because you are lazy Curls, lazy and obstinate."

"You sound like Joe."

"He was right."

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The scene changed to Stephanie standing in the middle of the street as yet another car burned to a crisp. Joe Morelli was standing yelling, waving his arms, the blood vessel in his forehead throbbing. Train wreck, incompetent, dangerous, my stomach, my antacids, never once did he ask if SHE was hurt. He actually sounded like her mother! Ranger appeared and wrapped his arms around her, "Are you hurt?"

Bobby appeared and examined her, "You should go to the hospital, to relieve HIS mind."

"I don't have insurance."

"He pays your bills."

Stephanie began to count up exactly what Ranger had paid for over the years.

Grandpa Mazur cut in, "He pays them to keep you solvent. If you had to pay them, you couldn't. You don't make enough money. He doesn't tell you because he loves you."

00000000

The lobby of a senior center is not an ideal location for a takedown, but a man intent on killing Stephanie had chased her into the building and she was putting an end the chase. After rolling on the floor and swearing, her on-target knee found his sensitive side, ending the wrestling match. As she stood up and brushed the hair out of her face, Ranger gave his tiny smile, "Proud of you Babe."

00000000

Next scene is dark. She is bound and shoved into an impossibly small area. She feels her body cramp again remembering the incident. Ranger is in an office pacing, pushing a little old lady to review property records. Ranger enters Stiva's house and she falls from the cabinet into Ranger's arms. Briefly that same panic look she just saw at the Delaware Bridge fills his eyes. He thought she was dead.

00000000

The scene fades and reforms to Atlantic City, she is inching across a narrow ledge, jumping down and then being boosted up and over a parking garage wall by a crazed Russian killer. The boost it too much and she fell to the ground. Before she could gain her feet, Ranger is there, fighting and eventually throwing the killer back over the wall to the ground below. Briefly Ranger's eyes flash with concern for her wellbeing.

How often had she caused the Man in Black, Batman, to fear for her life? The concern is quickly slammed down under his granite stare but tonight she "hears" his heart beat race madly. She also looks at the men with Ranger; their emotions are less hidden. These big scary men are concerned about her! She has never seen these looks from members of her own family. These men cared for her more than her parents'.

00000000

Ranger is sitting in the chair beside her bed, watching her sleep. He's either going on a mission or coming home. He's anxious, running his hands through his hair, but as he watches her sleep, he calms down, leans back and tents his fingers over his chest. His equilibrium reached, he gets up, kisses her head and leaves.

00000000

Ranger walks into her St. James street apartment with his hands raised, his daughter Julie sitting across from me, apparently still drugged into unconsciousness. Ranger accepts he may die but must do this to save his daughter…and her. The kidnapper fires twice, blood sprays and Ranger falls.

"He loves you Curls."

"I love him but…"

"But he wouldn't commit. He's told you why, but you are so….obstinate. " Grandpa was getting upset. "Look, maybe now you'll understand…"

Five coffins are on biers; three are adult size, the other two are smaller. Flowers adorn the area. Mourners ware leaving the burial site, the service is over, but five military men remain behind, at attention. One wears the name badge Manoso. A taller, somewhat older man stands next to Ranger, "He swore he'd kill all of us and our families. I thought I had them protected back here in the States, with her parents; after all her father was a policeman. That bastard crawled out of that dark hell hole and found them; killed everyone slowly and painfully. They were my life, Captain Manoso, they got me through missions, something to live for, to come home to. Now they are gone. I killed them every bit as much as he did." The grieving man used all his military training to hold together. "Never fall in love, Manoso. Spare them the pain, spare yourself this pain. What we do, the hardship and pain we endure is nothing compared to this. Never fall in love."

Ranger whispers, "Yes sir."

"Curls, that murderer is still living and still hunting. That is why he tried to keep you at arm's length, but he couldn't. So he sent you out with guardians, wanted you to learn self-defense, carry a weapon. But no, you refused to listen or understand. Maybe if you knew all, you would have run from him, he didn't want to lose what little he had of you. So he's stayed in Trenton instead of moving around for protection, just to stay near you and protect you either by himself or with his company. That's love baby. It doesn't get more intense than that."

"Grandpa what am I to do?"

"That's why we are here, sweetie, it's time you make up your own mind. You have YOUR life to live, not your mother's. Your destiny is not with that _Ebadta kölyke!_ (SOB). You will find respect and eventual love. Actions and consequences sweetie, you must learn your actions have consequences. Luck doesn't come into it, or bad karma, it's all on you."

00000000

Stephanie wept softly and didn't realize her grandfather has taken her to another place. Joe has a woman bent over the kitchen table hiding the salami. A car door out front is heard closing. Bob barks. "Shit, she's back early."

The woman grabs her clothes, shoes and purse and scoots out the back door, naked. Joe quickly closes his pants. The door opens and Bob streaks out, does his duty and returns. By then Joe has his shirt fully buttoned. Stephanie comes in, "Who's car is out front?"

"Don't know, must be visiting someone else."

"Did you recognize that Curls?"

"Yeah, it was last month. I thought the swelling in his pants was he was excited to see me. Damn, just like Dickie. I hope that wasn't Joyce on the table."

"It wasn't."

00000000

The scene changes to Rangeman basement, Hector's office. Ranger is looking over Hector's shoulder watching a video. " _Nunca le muestres estas imágenes."_ (Never show her these pictures.)

 _"_ _Él es un hombre puta."_ (He's a man-whore.)

 _"_ _Ella debe descubrir eso ella misma."_ (She must discover that herself) Ranger said as he walked away.

Stephanie stared, "Why didn't he…."

"You would have accused him of manipulating you. Your dignity would have misfired and you'd be mad at him, not Joe. Your spidey sense told you he was a cheater but you never listened to it. You let your mother brow beat you into believing you loved Joe. You and Joe were friends and you enjoyed the sex, but you never were IN love with him nor was he in love with you. He's possessive, jealous someone else wanted you.

Have you put it together yet Curls? Anthony Franco, Helen's son who died and Anthony Morelli, her expected son in law. Yours and Joe's male children would be Helen and Frank's missing son.

What if I had daughters?

Grandpa didn't answer.

00000000

The scene was Rangeman: Lester, Hector, Hal, Bobby, Vince, Cal, and Manny, huddled around the Break Room table, "We've got to find her, help her," Lester said.

Vince sat back, "Why, she made her choice, a domestic, a wife. She never really wanted our life. She wanted Ranger's bed."

Lester responded with anger, "I disagree. When she was on a case, really working the case, she was like a dog with a bone. At the computer doing searches she'd take her way through the case, frustrated but when she found something, her eyes sparkled brighter than her love of Boston cremes. None was better at searches and backgrounds. How many cases did she give us the needed solution when we were at a dead end. But she needed physical activity and to be involved in cases."

Vince rolled his eyes, "Sex and sugar. Also she whined like a bad alternator belt."

"Listen to the way the way women speak in the Burg, they must teach it in school," Hal said

Bobby decided to add his two cents, "If she were to develop skills and get a healthy diet, she'd be…scary."

"What do you mean scary?" Hal asked.

She's been shot, knifed, burned, beaten, buried, dropped into the river and keeps coming back. If she had confidence and skills…"

"….and common sense," Vince added

Bobby looked annoyed, "If she had confidence, skills, discipline and common sense, I would gladly work with her."

"You'd just want her bed," Vince added.

Bobby moved at lightning speed, putting Vince on the ground in a choke hold, "No, some of us can separate our testicles from our brains, a**hole."

Hector had his gutting knife out as well, but realized Bobby had the situation under control.

Manny spoke, "What if we did convince her to come back and she starts man-hunting again here, it would destroy discipline."

"Bull spit," Cal jumped in. "How many gays do we have on staff? Has that ruined discipline? Men and women work together, even in the military, remember? We actually need a woman working here. There are situations that are…too delicate for a man to handle."

"She's O-3, she's probably off men anyway," Vince said rubbing his throat.

"She is our _hermana,"_ Hector said. "We treat her like family, sister. Anybody here hurts her, they answer to me."

Stephanie was dizzy from all the scene changes, "Oh, Grandpa Mazur, I miss them."

"They always wanted you to get better, let them train you so you could work alongside of them as an equal. They saw your potential."

Taking her hand, "Curls, there's one more place I'd like to take you tonight, it will be difficult. Are you ready?"

She nodded.

00000000

The giant rubber raft held six men, all in dark green camouflage, faces painted green and black, helmets, back packs and weapons. They were deep in a jungle, the foliage over hung the water. The boat slowed and the men exited onto the shore. Ranger was in the lead. They stopped and gathered around Ranger. "We'll move now for 2 hours, then rest. When we get to the compound,we kill, confirm kill or else he will finishing coming after all of us. He killed Major Andrew's family and the major, Stevenson and his girlfriend, Murphy, Jackson and damn near killed Tank. He'll continue to pick us off unless we end it tonight. He's fucked with our heads for too long."

Ranger was by himself, is head down in his hands, "Merry Christmas Babe. I hoped I'd be the one for you when I cleared my life. This is the one who kept me from you. This mission he dies or I do. I regret it took this long."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

28th

When gossip begins to cool, some little spark can reignite it. Such happened with the St. James street fire, bones were found in the ash and Stephanie Plum was missing. Never mind the bones discovered were unmelted plastic from somebody's anatomy class. model. Reality had no bearing on gossip. Suddenly the Burg starting rehashing Joe's relationship with Stephanie with regard to her various mishaps; perhaps not all her car explosions were due to leaky fuel lines but rather some-ONE trying to kill her. For the next few days newspaper photos showing Joe waving his arms, yelling at her in public were posted. Another day an exposé was run showing Joe and Terry in high school to the present. Word began to circulate that Helen was constantly pushing Stephanie to the abusive Joe Morelli. What was Helen's role in this? Did she, not Terry, arrange for Stephanie to die in the fire?

By New Year's Eve Helen found herself at the center of controversy including being questioned by police. For years she had used her daughter to create a martyr image of her, "poor me, I have Stephanie as a daughter." Now people were casting disparaging comments about her, but of course, Helen's retort was it was all Stephanie's fault; dead or alive, it was always Stephanie's fault.

0000000000

Tank walked into Rangeman and went to his office. The paper stack was impressive for a week's absence. Tank sighed, Lester, was still learning how to run the business. He was excellent leading a squad or company, but had always had trouble with the nitty-gritty paperwork. Nobody liked it, including him.

After organizing the mess, he began signing the needed forms, making comments on new and old clients and looking over field reports from the security details. Rangeman was doing all of the Vincent Plum's captures, Lula had gone off to cosmetology school after Joe forced Stephanie to quit working for Vinnie and Rangeman. Harry the Hammer, Vinnie's father in law and owner of the business was hoping to sell the business to Rangeman. Ranger had favored the idea to keep someone else from moving in and snapping up high bonds that Rangeman already did. Tank would talk to the other two owners and the accountant.

A knock sounded on the door and Bobby stepped in closing the door behind him. Sitting down in front of Tank's desk he asked, "How is she?"

"She slept for over 24 hours and arose clear headed and thinking."

"I'm surprised. I was afraid she'd need professional help and almost overrode your decision to take her. But she's always been resilient; had to be to survive that…family."

Tank continued, "Yesterday she was exhausted like she hadn't slept at all. She was frightened, maybe nightmares. As you know I'm not one for coddling, I think that's one of the problems. When it came to Steph, Ranger tended to think with his balls instead of his brain. I haven't been in love like that so I shouldn't criticize. Anyway, I laid it on the line, tough love, she needs to change or these situations will continue. I hope I didn't go too far."

"You can be intimidating Big Guy, you scared the crap out of me, initially. Is she eating?"

"No. I don't stock the foods she eats. There's food, fresh fruit and vegetables, simple proteins, nuts, she won't starve unless she wants to. No sugar or alcohol either. It's one of the reasons I left her alone. She'll be detoxing and we've heard what she's like without sugar."

"Afraid she'd be too much for you?" Bobby kidded.

Tank growled, "I survived Lula."

"Seriously, no carry out nearby?"

"There isn't anything nearby and she has no car."

"What if she gets in trouble?"

"This is Bomber, Bobby, she's always in trouble. If the house burns down, there's an apartment over the garage."

"What's your next step?

"I'll go back New Years to see where she is mentally. I told her I'd stay and help her if she's serious. If not, she gets a one way bus ticket to anywhere but Trenton."

"Any early indications?"

"I suggested the military," Tank said offhandedly.

Bobby laughed, "She freaked right?"

"No."

Bobby's eyes grew wide, "She might enlist?"

"Shock treatment. It worked on us. Why not her? She's pig-headed, thinks outside of the box and when she's on the trail of an FTA, dogged like a terrier going to ground. Who does that sound like?"

"Oh hell, a young Ric. Tank, it would break her spirit."

"Combat for sure, but I mentioned law enforcement. She has the investigative mind, what she lacks is discipline," the big man said quietly. "Problem is she isn't 18 years old. She isn't in the greatest of shape, I'm not sure she could cut it as an MP, maybe CID. Once we work with her, she needs to talk to a recruiter who isn't trying to pad his enlistments."

"Personally speaking, I'd rather have that physically fit mind, trained mind, working here. She was uncanny at times." Bobby was remembering how they were often amazed how she solved cases none of them could obtain traction. She was the one who figured out who was breaking into Rangeman accounts nearly destroying the company.

Tank shook his head in agreement, "I agree, but she needs discipline, training…..something like Basic either as preparation for enlistment or for working here."

Bobby thought for a moment, "Could we do it? We have MPs here….Brett and Charlie for example. Ram can teach a blind man to shoot. You could teach her take downs and self-defense. I can do first aid and physical fitness, Hector IT. We have a training staff right here."

"What about Les? We shouldn't leave him out."

Laughing Bobby snorted, "Training dummy."

Bobby got up and paced a bit, "She could get the investigative training as a civilian, and we could front the schooling while she continues to work here. If she goes military we lose her for at least four years, if not forever."

Tank watched Bobby. Was he in love with Stephanie? Bobby has been dating a doctor in Princeton. "It's her choice, Bobby. She might want to leave the area entirely. However I believe she has the lady _cojones_ to stand up to everyone here, once she believes in herself and has the skills to be as good as she has shown signs before."

"Female _cojones_ did I miss that in anatomy class?" Bobby smiled. "Let's say she does come back, what will Ranger say?"

"Every fiber of my being knows where he's gone but the handlers of course are mum. Ranger's chances of coming back are low. Impossible mission and his heart is dead."

"Because of Stephanie," Bobby whispered. He had seen over and over how soldiers who had lost their will, their spirit, came home in a box.

"The bastard he's going after, Guzman, swore vengeance on all the initial team and their families. He's been picking us off for years. I promised I would protect her for as long as I can." Tank stood and walked to a bulletproof window and stared for a while…remembering:

00000000

 _"_ _Tank, I need you to keep an eye on her as always."_

 _"_ _She's got Joe now, he'll take care of her."_

 _"_ _Do you really believe that?"_

 _"_ _No."_

 _Ranger put his head in his hands, "I should have moved on, but after the Slayers, I couldn't."_

 _"_ _No Ric you were hooked before that. How many times did I sit in her parking lot waiting for you while you went to her apartment before a mission?"_

 _"_ _She made her choice, she chose him."_

 _"_ _But HE hasn't. It was a pissing contest between the two of you and you lost. He probably loves her in some way but he's never been monogamous, even now he's still chasing tail," Tank said. "You couldn't commit to her with Guzman still around."_

 _"_ _IF he marries her, it will be as short as her marriage to that DickHead attorney or worse, kids and a divorce."_

 _"_ _Would Hector's file help?" Tank asked._

 _"_ _No, she suspects but has ignored it. Sometimes it just needs to hit you in the face."_

 _"_ _And you want me to wipe her face and pick up the shattered pieces?"_

 _"_ _No, keep her from sinking and self-destructing."_

 _"_ _At least you didn't ask me to marry her."_

 _"…_ _Only if I'm dead," Ranger mumbled as he walked away._

0000000

"Bobby, I haven't finalized a training program, but I'm going back with winter gear. We have to break down the whiney Stephanie before we rebuild," Tank said as he moved away from the window.

"January Basic, she's going to love that!"

"I'll work with her for a few weeks then bring her back here, Safe House 3. We'll work out assignments tomorrow."

Tank returned to his desk and sat, "Now what's the word around town?"

Bobby chuckled, "Bones were found in the apartment fire debris. Word circulating is they are Stephanie's and that either Terry, Joe, or Helen had the apartment building burned. Gossip line is buzzing, never mind the police knew the bones were unmelted plastic from an anatomical model. Fire cause was a space heater on the first floor.

Joe finally showed up here looking for Stephanie. I didn't show him the videos from Christmas morning, he might come back with a warrant if he ever gets his brain out from between his legs. He was his usual "cool" self; we've got him making racists comments in our lobby."

"What did the idiot say?"

"Oh the usual slams against the men and Ranger, thugs and convicts; called Stephanie a whore and me Sambo."

Tank just huffed. "Sensitivity training did him wonders. Speaking of which, we can feed Les some info for the gossip line. Joe's engagement ring is cubic zirconia. Some jeweler in town gave her the bad news."

Bobby howled, "We don't need Lester, I'd gladly start that one myself."

00000000

Stephanie woke up late, nearly 10 am. Once again her pillow was soaked with tears, her eyes puffy and red. She was exhausted, as if she had been up all night and not slept….maybe she hadn't. Her _dreams_ were not all memories, there was new information. Was it her imagination, repressed memories or somehow had her grandfather led her on "real" journeys?

Just how often had she failed in her apprehensions getting herself into further trouble because she had steadfastly refused to learn takedowns, disarming suspects, and trying to do something she had no knowledge? Could she remember all the black eyes or chin bruises she had because she didn't know self-defense? There was a reason Rangeman employees traveled in teams, for protection and backup. Lula was a friend but also a liability.

Her obstinate nature kept her from moving from her unsecure apartment. Why? It dated back to when she worked for EE Martin and was moving up. OK, that and it was one of the cheapest apartments without getting close to Stark Street. She needed to live away from home to prove she was independent of her mother, but refused to move to Newark. According to her mother only thugs lived in Newark.

She finished drying her hair and went downstairs. Without really thinking about it, she scrambled several eggs and made toast. It wasn't through rote memory, she had watched her mother, grandmother, Joe and Ranger plus her mind was elsewhere. It wasn't any harder than toasted cheese sandwiches, if you used enough butter. Wishing she had jelly for the toast, she looked in the refrigerator again in case Grandpa Mazur left some off. Instead she found the jar of coffee from yesterday and heated that up for breakfast.

She took her plate to eating counter next to the yellow paper pad and pen. She would eat and think.

Why had she allowed her mother to lead her life? After scratching down several possible reasons she remembered Anthony Franco Plum. Her mother didn't want her, she wanted Anthony. No matter what she did, her mother never said "well done" or even "I love you." Eventually she retreated into her alternate universe with Wonder Woman, Superman and Batman where problems were overcome; people protected, cities saved, bad guys put away and the super hero received, if not adulation, at least acknowledgement. That's why she loved being a BA, it was being a super hero; or in her case a pale version of a super hero. Wonder Woman didn't roll in garbage, Superman was never hurt, and the batmobile didn't blow up. The look she received from Robin at TPD and the Rangeman was her reward.

She did not want to live a life like her mother; clean windows, pot roast on Friday, and children she didn't love. She needed action. If she were into drugs she might have taken speed in her younger days, instead she used sugar. Sugar was her fuel but it was a link, the last link to a hopeful loving relationship with her mother. Stephanie wanted to believe each cake, each pudding or pie made by her mother was just for her. Punishments included being excluded from dessert. So each bite of pineapple upside down cake she consumed was her mother showing approval, right? No, it was Helen's duty to provide a full meal for her husband. It didn't matter if Stephanie was present or not for dinner, dessert was a constant.

Was her being a bond apprehension agent her attempt for approval? Was she seeking approval from her mentor, Ranger? If Rangeman were not in the picture, would she still be a BA? No, she'd probably be dead due to her incompetence. Did she like being a BA? Surprisingly, the answer was yes. She liked the hunt, she liked the law enforcement part and once in a while helping people who needed a hand.

Why did she not want to be a better bond agent? Lazy, yeah, obstinate, yeah, but there was one other reason: If she appeared she needed help, Ranger or one of the men was there immediately. She admired how the guys handled each apprehension; they had the background, assessed the possible scenarios and then confidently acted. She had nothing.

If she wanted to be a better BA or go into some other law enforcement job, she needed training, a lot of training. Tank said she needed discipline and from there comes confidence. The only way she saw of building confidence through discipline was the military.

She was 30 plus years old and while not fat, she was not in shape. She needed to pull herself together; begin an exercise program and study the books in Tank's library. There was also feeding herself, laundry, caring for Tank's house, she needed a schedule.

After cleaning the kitchen she donned her boots and set off for the beach; always a good location to begin life changes. The beach was rocky and dangerous as Tank had said making her believe she might be above Cape Cod. Still she quick walked at best she could for 30 minutes before convinced she had become an icicle and returned indoors. She had her first check on schedule sheet, 30 minutes exercise. Laundry and dust mopping the floors were the second check. The third was study with the books in the library. Dinner was toasted cheese with some weird cheese and homemade tomato soup from whole canned tomatoes. Tank said in his notes it was easy, once she found the blender. Time was flying and she didn't miss the television or radio, but did miss dessert.

When she set the fireplace for the night she was hesitant about going to bed. She wasn't sure she could take another journey with Grandpa Mazur, so she stayed in the living room, watching the flames.

"Curls, I have several final things to show you, her grandfather said as he sat beside her on the couch. After these I have to leave you. I've enjoyed our time together, you've become quite a lovely lady and I hope you will continue working on improving yourself and be great. You have the intelligence and drive but your mother never helped you develop confidence. Your handsome Latino man and his men believe in you. Your Berg friends, well, they don't support your dreams. Mary Lou wants you to be just like her, a Berg wife and mother which is not for you. Lula will never help you grow but keep pulling you down. Connie has no drive, she is content with her lonely life.

Only a tiny part of success is luck, the rest you make yourself through planning, action and taking advantage of situations that benefit you and avoiding those that don't. Strive to be the best, Curls, don't let others pull you down."

"Grandpa Mazur, you have taken me to difficult places, but I fear this last trip."

"This time we will look forward, you will decide which road to take," he said as he took her hand. "We don't need the robe tonight, sweetheart."

The scene was a forest track, narrow dirt road surrounded by tall densely growing trees. The steady beat of feet and labored breathing proceeded Stephanie Plum soaked in sweat jogging down the trail. She approached a wall and instead of stopping or going around, she leapt onto it, climbed over the top, down the other side and continued jogging. A log was lying over a small stream, without breaking stride she ran over the log without slipping off. She ran to a rope suspended from a high branch. Leaping onto the rope she climbed, slowly up and slide carefully back down before resuming her jog down the dirt path. A beam was suspended high above the ground; she climbed the ladder, quickly and confidently traversed the beam. As she neared the end with a rope hanging down for the descent, she quickened her last few steps, grabbed the rope and flew out away from the beam while also lowering herself, grateful for the gloves on her hand. "Good flight SuperWoman" came from an unseen male voice.

The scene changed to a gun range, she wasn't standing still, she was moving around with her rifle at her shoulder firing at targets and they appeared from various locations. Her body felt a zing. "Shit," she yelled. An unknown man peeked out, "You missed one and he just got you." She looked down at the yellow paint splattered on her vest.

The scene changed again, she was in hand to hand combat with a man at least 50 pounds heavier than she. She was in trouble, the man was about to put her into a painful hold, but she smiled knowing how to break and reverse the hold. With lightning speed she reversed the situation. "Good job, excellent reverse."

00000

Scene changed again, this time **s** he is behind a desk, wearing a lovely suit. She looks professional and very nicely groomed. The office was spacious, numerous awards hung on the walls. Areminder tone on her computer chimed, "Gym time." Instead of dreading gym work, she jumped up and eagerly headed out the door. Once in her workout clothes the room fills with children. "Today we will work a bit more on personal self-defense," she says to the younger students. As the class ends a little boy runs up to her, "Mommy, look, Daddy came to watch." A shadowy figure, not definable, was at the door. She couldn't tell who it was. The scene changed.

00000

The sign on the building read City Morgue. The clerk is checking the name on the body page, "Stephanie Michelle Plum. Vagrant. Unmarried, never worked more than low paying jobs, no family, no friends. Ended up living in her broken down car and froze to death. Cremation. She'll be buried with other unclaimed at the end of the year. Meanwhile, put her in the freezer."

Stephanie pulled back sharply, "Grandpa Mazur why did you show this to me?"

"Your choice Curls, you determine where you will go. You have great potential, but need to throw off the yoke from your mother and the Berg. Your giant friend is the person to kick your ass into gear. If you side step his kick, you will procrastinate yourself into that abandoned car, ending up a mere shell of what you could have been. The next time I see you Curls I want to throw my arms around you and say, "Well done Wonder Woman, well done."

29th

Stephanie once asked Ranger why he got up at 4:30 a.m. "Basic training has stayed with me. We had 30 minutes to prepare for the day; shit, shower, shave, and shine. Calisthenics at 5, breakfast at 6."

She wanted to see if she could follow their schedule. She missed the early call out this morning, she has never been a morning person believing she need not get up before the sun. But she was trying to make a new Stephanie. Donning her still wet boots she walked down the road leading to the house. Since she was wearing Tank's hat and socks for gloves, the bathrobe and Tank's jacket she was grateful it was dark and isolated. Maybe a moose saw her, that's all.

Rushing back inside, she did not run for the shower but to the fireplace first setting the coffee maker to brew. She wanted PopTarts for breakfast but made do with toasted cheese sandwich. The coffee didn't warm her, she needed to change clothes; one demerit for breaking the routine. The library yielded another self-help book. Lunch was a salad and a handful of nuts. She chuckled as she ate the salad, "Ranger would have a chicken breast over the top of this." She froze again, was he really right now in that jungle? Was he even alive?

After lunch was domestic work, cleaning the bathroom, washing towels and sheets. While the dryer whirled she went into Tank's gym and lifted hand weights. Dinner time was nearing and she decided to tackle chicken breasts. How difficult could it be? Following Betty Crocker she cut the breast into thin strips and found frozen stir fry vegetables in the freezer. Rereading the instructions for everything several times she set forth. Only at the very end did she realize she missed the rice. Next time. The meal was OK, she wasn't starving.

This night there was no visit from Grandpa Mazur. She slept soundly.

December 31st.

Yesterday and today she woke up at 0430 and did stretches, rode the bicycle and lifted hand weights. Down on the mat she did her sit ups, 25 today, about 10 crunches but still no pushup. She needed more upper body strength. She'd wait for Tank before she started doing presses. She was now building a new body, mind and heart. Her libido was sneaking in but without a man around and no power shower head; she would have to push past the urges with exercise. If she worked herself to exhaustion, she wasn't horny. Given a choice she's prefer exhaustion with Ranger…..NO! She had to stop thinking about him. Men, that's why she was here, trying to find herself instead of relying on a man.

At her midafternoon break from studying, she returned to the ocean, mainly to run. It was cold and windy but her body was warm, craving more movement. The poor boots would not survive this activity much longer. She had taken to wearing socks only indoors trying to preserve her boots.

Tank came into the house. He didn't need to call for Stephanie to know she was still living there. The fireplace had flame, a book was open on the dining room table. He flipped to the title page and smiled, it was a self-help book. Notes were lying alongside. He would not read them, they were private.

Turning into the kitchen he opened the refrigerator and noted food not yet cooked. Taking out a cast iron casserole, he cut up the beef roast into smaller cubes, browned them and added vegetables and seasoning. All went into the oven.

Entering the utility room, a wind-burned and sweaty Stephanie began stripping off her clothes for a run to the shower when she smelled kitchen smells. She couldn't identify them but knew she wasn't responsible. Tank was back. She slipped her clothes back on and stepped into the kitchen.

Tank had finished putting away new groceries when Stephanie stepped in.

"Smells good in here."

He looked at her wind burned complexion, wild hair and sweat soaked clothes, "Go shower and change, we can talk later."

She didn't hesitate to leave. In her bedroom was bag after bag of clothing, shoes, and toiletries. She quickly totaled the purchases, she'd owe Tank big time.

When she returned, Tank noted she had lost weight and her complexion was ruddy from exposure to the cold.

"Thank you for shopping. I'll repay you when I get to the bank."

Dinner wouldn't be ready for a while; they had plenty of time to talk. He had two cups of herbal tea and motioned for the main room. She sipped her tea while he adjusted the fire. "Your absence is causing quite a stir," he said as he sat near the fireplace inviting her to be near as well.

She sat back on the couch and thought a minute, "I don't care. I have to take care of myself and quit worrying about others."

Internally he smiled, good answer. "You should let someone back there know you are OK."

"Who? The obvious first choices I'd rather not have anything to do with anymore."

"You still have friends," he said. He was thinking about Lula.

"Second tier gossipers? Who beyond several people at Rangeman can I call friends?"

She did have a point. "Maybe some neutral party who could quietly let the word out you are safe; Joe Juniak or maybe your cousin Eddie."

She thought for a bit, "Yeah, they might be good."

He reached into his tech pants pocket and pulled out a larger cellphone. "Satellite phone, it's slow with voice transfer, allow the other person to finish before speaking."

"Stephanie?" came Eddie's concerned voice. The sound of children in the background indicated he was home with the family.

"Yes, Eddie, it's me. I need to let someone know I'm OK. I'd rather not talk with my family. I'm no longer in Trenton or even New Jersey as I need time and space to think."

"Are you injured, are you safe?"

"I'm safe, warm, dry, healthily fed. A friend is putting me up while I plan what to do."

"Ranger?"

"No, I have no idea where he is and I'm not looking for him." Before he could ask about other Rangeman, she continued, "Eddie, I have several options I'm considering. I'd like to stay in law enforcement in some capacity. I'm considering applying to a police academy but I'd either need college courses or military training. I don't have enough money for returning to college so I'm looking into the military law enforcement."

Tank lifted an eye brow.

Eddie was silent for a while. "I'm surprised but the more I think about it, with the training you'll do well. I take it Joe isn't in the picture anymore."

"Not even a little bit and I can't talk to my family. In the meantime, if there's a missing person's investigation, please cancel it. I'm not missing; in fact I'm beginning to find myself."

"Yes, Steph, I believe you are. If there's anything I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you Eddie, you've been a good friend for years."

She might have been better off calling Joe Juniak, but she knew Eddie would gossip but he never did so in a way that was derisive to her, he often stuck up for her.

When she hung up Tank smiled, "Oh that's going to be interesting along Hamilton Ave. The military?"

"It may be my only salvation."

"You going to call Joe?"

Yep, he's next. Her call was answered by Officer Gaspick, "Joe Morelli's phone."

She wondered where Joe was, no she really didn't.

This is Stephanie Plum…I have two short messages for Joe, you can pass on the message.

"Ah, I don't know about this…." he said hesitantly.

"They are simple and don't involve profanity. First one is I've finally remembered what Cupcake originally meant. Got that?"

"Original meaning of cupcake….." He was taking notes. "OK and…"

"I'm sending my engagement ring to Terry Gilman."

"That's it? Nothing else?"

"Nope, that's it, thanks Officer Gaspick, I promised no profanity."

Tank shook his head, "Damn I wish I was in town right now."

"One more, then I'm done," she said with an evil grin.

"Connie."

"Stephanie where are you?"

"Far away."

"When are you coming back."

"I'm not. I left with the clothes on my back. I was going to hock my ring, but I found out its worthless. Joe's ring is nothing more than cubic zirconia on silver plate. I guess his new truck and replacing the dining room table with a pool table put him under financially."

"Pool table? You hate pool."

"He would never talk about setting a date and would get mad when I brought it up, even threatening me. He lied to his mother when he said two months. He also lied to my parents and half of Trenton. He didn't have a great ass, he was a great ass."

"Are you OK?"

"I really screwed up, Connie. I listened to my mother and got Dickie and Joe."

"What about Ranger?"

"He's gone forever; now I have nothing, literally. I have to start from scratch; this time without Helen's terrible expert guidance. I want to thank you for being my friend and getting me the job with Vinnie several years ago. Say good bye to Vinnie and Lula for me."

She did not know Tank had told Bobby about the ring, so between Bobby and Connie, the word about the valueless ring would speed like lightning through the Berg.

She put the phone down and Tank handed her a doughnut. "You earned it."

"No Tank, I don't need sugar anymore. I figured out why I was fixated on it."

He was waiting for an explanation.

"Another time. We need to discuss how you can help me prepare for the military."

Tank almost spit out his tea. "You really have been thinking about military?"

"You mentioned MPs."

"You're serious?"

"Tank, I want to stay in law enforcement or security. As I told Eddie, I don't qualify for police academy without college classes and I don't have the money for that. Private investigation is another thought but I'd want law enforcement behind it first. I'm late coming to the party. Military is the only other choice. But I need help to prepare. While you've been gone I've put myself on a disciplined program….to see if I can follow through. So far, I've almost hit the mark perfectly. I don't know how much time you can give me, but you said you could train me. What would that entail?"

"If you are thinking about the military, you need to be in shape physically and mentally. You need to know how to plan and carryout objectives. A big part for you will be discipline; you cannot whine your way out of doing your job."

"What about weapons?"

"I'd like to include weapons training, at least identification and care, but it's not as critical as getting you ready for the rigorous work, physical and mental."

"Would you do it all?"

I could but I have a company to run. I'd rather have help. If you successfully complete 8 weeks, 12 hours a day, you will be better able to decide if the military is for you." He wanted to offer her a job at Rangeman, but first she had to prove herself capable.

"Who would help?"

"Men I've helped train and now work with."

"Ah, not Rangeman I hope."

"They are the best."

"Would they come here? I'm concerned about being around the Berg."

"Understandable. We can do your training away from Trenton, but not here. This is my private retreat, only you have been here."

She thought a bit then said, "We'll begin at 04:30 tomorrow, but right now how long before dinner? It smells great."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **January 1 Beginning of the New Stephanie**

 **At 04:30** Tank banged on her bedroom door. "You have 30 minutes for personal duties. Report 05:00 to the gym downstairs. Dress for indoor workout." So began the transformation of Stephanie from the Berg's Bombshell Bounty Hunter into something new and improved.

Tank stood in the middle of the home gym, though a room this large and well equipped wasn't your typical home gym. "Every morning we are here at the house we will begin at 05:00 in the gym. Breakfast is at 06:15. After breakfast we will be outside around the house. This afternoon we will be indoors in instruction until 15:00 when we will go over your new outdoor gear. We will be spending 5 days outside in winter instruction, 2 days here at the house. Dinner will be from 18:00 to 18:45. After dinner and clean up you will have personal free time until 20:30 lights out."

"Yes, sir." Camping, outside? What had she gotten herself in for? The alternative was the bus ticket to nowhere.

Tank began, "Today will be base line testing. I will measure your endurance, strength, agility in the gym. In the next 8 weeks I expect impressive advancement in all areas. After testing we will outside splitting and stacking firewood. After lunch we will go for a little run; I want to see your running form. When we are finished with the 8 week course you will be running a minimum of ten miles per session and up to 50 miles a week. Today I hope for 3. If at any time you complain about training, you will be disciplined with increased reps or mileage."

After 15 minutes testing she remembered why she hated exercise.

"Ten sit-ups, zero pushups, four crunches; we have a long way to go, Plum." At the end of the 3 mile run she had lost her lunch, but walked for another two. She never complained. She kept the picture of Joe and Terry in her mind. Stephanie Plum would become _than before; better, stronger, and faster_. She would be the new Bionic Woman. Well, she would at least NOT be the laughing stock of the Berg. After the run she slowly walked into the house. "Gym in 5 minutes, first hydrate," Tank barked.

More like pee and hydrate, she thought. Mentally she was picturing the very long, very hot soak after dinner.

Back in the gym Tank began, "Our schedule will be five days in the field, two days here in instruction before we return outside. While we are outside we will in shelters we construct ourselves, cook meals over flame, but we will not sing _Kumbaya_. This will be wilderness survival; you mess up out here, you die. You will not be comfortable, you will be tired by the end of the day, and food will not be exciting but will be nourishing. You will be doing physical activity, problem solving, survival skills, and surveillance. There will be no days off. Though we are isolated here, weapons sounds do carry and the game warden gets upset. Our early weapons training will be with bow."

Her mind flashed, Better, Stronger, Faster….and Frostbitten.

"These are the clothes you will wear. They are the most high tech winter survival gear. They are designed to keep you dry, sweat or outside moisture will rob your heat. You will carry your own gear in a back pack or we will use a sled. Snow shoes will keep us from sinking into deep snow.

Before you ask, you being a woman are at a disadvantage when it comes to wilderness urination. He reached into his supply bag and pulled out a box. This allows women to urinate while standing, cleanup is just run water through it when available, or snow. Also, women have a monthly bleed. I highly suggest you use a cup. I have some here in the sack. I urge you to get acquainted with both items while in the shower this evening." Stephanie noticed he was blushing.

"Do you have questions?"

"Birth control?"

The big voice came out, "Plum we are not going to have sex. You are here to be trained not to copulate. For the next 8 weeks there will be no fucking around and I mean that literally. At the end of training, you can reestablish your birth control."

After dinner she slid into the hot tub water and she soaked away her body pain from the morning exercise and run. This would be the last time she will have such luxury for five days. Her mind was filled with doubts but she also knew she had to succeed now or fail later. She was familiar with the cup and the urination device looked straight forward, but read the instructions several times. Crawling to the bed, she slept solidly until the bedroom door pounding began at 04:30. "Gym in 30 minutes."

Coming down the stairs, Stephanie walked like an old woman. "Bike, 20 minutes," came the command. As she climbed on, Tank ran on the treadmill watching her making sure she wouldn't fall off the bike. "Switch, 20 minutes treadmill." This time she stumbled and shot out the back, banging her chin on the treadmill edge but not muttering a sound. There was no blood but would surely be a bruise.

"Now that the legs are warm, we will work the upper half, on the mat, sit ups, crunches and pushups, then we'll stretch out." Breakfast couldn't come fast enough. It was a hearty meal, probably the last for a few days. Still no sugar but she didn't dwell on it.

"Every day you are not in the field you will begin your day with a workout here. Best to get the _shit_ over so we can have _fun_ the rest of the day. Once you are dressed, we will have snow shoe instruction as well as packing instruction. Once prepared, we will move out about five miles before we set up camp for the night.

Her mind flashed back on building their own shelter. Saunas probably weren't on the list. Whatever it would be, deal with it Stephanie, she urged herself.

By 10:00 hours they were dressed, had their packs and snowshoes and set out for their adventure. She kept telling herself, this was for her own good. The old Stephanie was be reeducated. Yes, this reeducation would be better in some balmy locations with frosty drinks at the end of the day, but that's the future.

"Plum, women cannot wear a pony tail and a helmet. You must contain your hair lower down on your neck," said her instructor.

"Yes sir." She tried to make a bun at her nape. Another learning challenge.

Snow shoeing was hard, no shuffling, the feet, they have to be pulled up to clear the snow. Her legs were going to ache tomorrow. She fell a few times, once in a most ridiculous position Tank had to help her back up. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't apologize, Plum, it's a sign of weakness," he barked back.

The snow was getting deeper when Tank stopped, "We didn't come as far as I had hoped, but this will do. We are going to make a snow cave. It takes several hours to construct so we best get started."

Didn't come as far as he had hoped? She was convinced they had walked 50 miles. She dared not ask how far they had come, it might be embarrassing.

He instructed, she followed his lead trying to understand why the inside of a cave needed a bench and lower passage inside. The vents in the ceiling made sense. Once the complicated "cave" was complete he spread two sheets of bubble wrap and pads over the snow bench, "To keep our clothing from getting wet from the snow underneath. We will not be toasty warm, but we will be dry, that's the most important."

He rolled out the two sleeping bags, they didn't look nearly thick enough. "We'll let these fluff while we prepare dinner, but first hydrate Plum, hypothermia comes from dehydration."

Sheesh, he had been saying that all day so she had become very familiar with her lady urination tool. She couldn't wait until she needed to tend to the other regular body function.

After a dinner of what was left overs from the night before reheated in hot broth he explained, "Tomorrow we can deal with the freeze dried food. Meantime, we will melt snow, refill our water bottles and then sleep with them tucked in close so they don't freeze over night."

Once they were tucked into their snow cave and sleeping bags Tank asked sarcastically, "Are we having fun yet, Recruit?"

"Yes, sir. People play big money to stay in Hotel de Glace in Quebec, I'm living in one for free."

"This is a snow cave not an ice palace."

"I never knew they were this complicated."

"They aren't, but it's far better than a hole in the snow. We'll do that another day."

"Yes sir and I'm going to sleep well tonight."

"Not before you drink more water. Remember, dehydration begets hypothermia."

"Yes sir."

When she woke up the next morning her legs and shoulders ached, one from the snow shoeing and the second from pounding and forming snow for the cave.

"Moving slow Plum?"

She wanted to lie and the old Stephanie would. The new Stephanie wanted to buck it up and ignore it but she was bent over like an old lady, again, "Yes sir."

He reached into a pocket and pulled out Advil, "One only."

She wanted to kiss him.

For the next four days they snow shoed through the forest, she learned how to find burnable wood, not fresh green wood. There was a trick to melting snow and keeping the fire going. Instruction included tying knots, rigging tow lines, building an emergency slit snow cave, and making a travois; a sled from branches and rope.

"What you have learned so far is the first step in winter survival. If I were to become incapacitated out here you would be responsible for getting me back to safety. You would have to drag me on a travois using only your own strength." She knew what was coming next, "Let's practice. You build the travois."

After some design changes the sled was done and she rigged with the ropes and her new knot tying skills. Tank said, "You will run this rope over hour shoulders and across your chest. Indians used horses, you are the horse."

At the end, this horse thought she would die. She could not pull as hard as she wanted for fear of getting her clothing wet. In the end she was able to transport Tank about 1000 yards, less than a mile. He was satisfied. "Explain to me recruit, why you did not think to build the travois on our sled?"

She stared open mouthed and wanted to utter a string of profanity direct at him, but held herself in check.

"You have to think ahead recruit, be creative."

"I was ordered, sir."

"You were, but in the real world you must be flexible. Don't get in a rut, push the envelope and sometimes tear it. I wouldn't be alive today if Ric had always followed instructions."

The next day he introduced crampons, climbing spikes for ice that attached to her boots. She had to recall her rope knots, "This is fun. We will repel down this icy rock face. The crampons will give you traction on the ice." Yes, once she learned how to kick forcefully into the ice for traction she quit bouncing against the rock like a pin ball and enjoyed the exercise. She'd be bruised after, hopefully he still had Advil.

"Sir, permission to speak."

"Granted Plum."

"Is this really part of Basic Training?"

He chuckled, "For the 10th Mountain Division. We don't have a challenge course here, I'm making it up as I go along."

On the afternoon of the 5th day when it was time to head back to the house, Tank said, "Take us home recruit."

She didn't have the faintest idea which way was home. "I have no clue which way to go, sir."

"Nature's trail marker's recruit, you must know where you are at all times. Read the terrain and watch for clues like the moss on the north side, snow depths, eagle's nest is the tree top, sunrise, sunset, direction of the salty breeze."

"Yes sir."

The two days back at the house were instructions, problem solving and of course the gym. She was surprised she could now do more sit ups, lunges and even several pushups. This inspired here to work harder.

Second week, back in winter camp Tank set her down in an isolated area. "You will be here for four hours. Observe everything in detail, you will be quizzed later."

Four hours in the cold observing? Well, as long as she kept dry, she wouldn't freeze to death, she hoped. After 5 days of physical activity and the learning in the warm house, she found sitting quiet outside in temperatures at or below freezing, difficult. She was never one to sit still, maybe it was the sugar coursing through her body before, but surprisingly today she managed to remain mostly unmoving, watching, listening to everything that happened from the number of birds that flew over-head, when the distant fog horn sounded, what time the wind began. Tank was sitting not for away recording his own observations. They would compare. Her first day, she missed a lot.

"You missed the rabbit ten feet from you, he might have been the enemy. Discipline Plum. Your job, only job is to observe. In law enforcement it is critical. In the past you barely lasted an hour in surveillance, your goal now is 8 hours. Everything you see, hear, smell and sense is important. We will work on this."

"Damn assassin rabbit," she murmured to herself.

After another snow cave night Tank woke up happy, "Today we will track. We will start following small animal prints. Then I will take 15 minutes to get a head start, you will follow and find me." She thought, no problem, he'll be leaving track. After two hours she realized she was following her own track, not his. She was going in circles. Carefully she back tracked and found her way. When she found him she realized he was above her observing her misadventure. "Did I keep you entertained, sir?" She was furious with herself.

"Obviously another skill we need to hone, Plum. However, I commend you for untangling yourself and not giving up," he laughed.

On the 20th day, the snow had melted, the ground was still frozen for their morning run from home. Instead of reporting to the gym at 05:00, they would run. "Eight miles this morning. We will wear headlamps to keep from falling over sleeping moose." She hoped he was kidding.

Instead of watching for moose she was watching the forest beside her. In three weeks her observation skills were sharpened. She could identify animal prints in the frozen mud or snow covered area. She saw a fox in its den watch them pass. She didn't see the moose until Tank suddenly stopped. He slowly reached around and took his crossbow out of pack, "He looks a bit unhappy with us here, turn around and go back the way we came, I'll keep him off you until you are safe." She didn't need any encouragement.

As they loaded up Tank's SUV for the trip back to New Jersey and closed down his house they relaxed their recruit/instructor relationship. "I never expected you to survive the first three days but I extremely pleased in your perseverance and lack of complaints. I don't know what is driving you, but I hope you hang on and continue the course."

"Tank, I've learned a lot about myself these past four weeks or however long I've been away from Trenton. Before I never pushed myself, I was never motivated until I got the job with Vinnie, but I was always out of my league. You have allowed me to explore my abilities, many of which need improvement I know, but now I have goals.

I've been thinking it is time to bury the Bombastic Bounty Hunter and the name Stephanie. I'd like to start using my middle name Michelle."

He smiled, "I think that's an excellent idea. I'm sure the others will respect your wishes."

 **The return**

 **January 25th**

Still in their relaxed mode as they left wilderness mansion on the sea, Stephanie asked, "What is the date today?"

"The 25th."

"You have given up 4 weeks to …..to me?" She didn't know whether to say "save me" or "train me." It was actually both.

"I figured you'd quit after a week, but when I came back New Year's and saw your resolved and then each day you worked harder than the day before, I knew we had to stick with the program. You've had 3 weeks of basic training-my style. You are not finished, but I need to get back to work. Others will help train you, but I'll still be a part."

Tank and the new Michelle arrived at Rangeman Safe House 3 after dark. They had made several stops on their way back to Mercer County. Wearing a knit cap and a helmet was too much for her hair. After 5 days out in the field it took 2 days to untangle it. Tank offered to cut it. It was a moment of jocularity during the training. "I said cut, not shave," she said with her hands on her hips. He didn't trust his skills and agreed to leave it to a professional.

When she left the salon, he smiled "It's actually cute."

"There isn't much left, but it will grow back, unlike yours."

"Hey, I save a ton on barber fees."

Once at the safe house she returned to recruit mode, "Sir, permission to speak frankly."

"Granted."

"I'm excited but also hesitate to see the others. I don't know if I've changed enough."

"Stay in recruit mode, they have been told how to act around you. All have trained others in the Army. I've asked them to push you, hard. You've proven you can do it."

"Yes sir. I assume there will be weapons training."

"You did fine with the crossbow, not a first line weapon. But it gave you confidence. Nobody said you have to love the weapons, just know how to use them well. The others will work with you on defensive and offensive techniques so you don't need to solely rely on weapons. You are getting more agile and fast.

You will continue to work outside as well as indoors, but not at Haywood. You are not ready for there. Each of your instructors and I will put you through various scenarios from actual cases. It's brain training."

"My body will appreciate the break from physical work," she replied.

"I didn't say a thing about resting. Not everything will be in a classroom setting."

000000000

Bobby briefed Lester, Ram, and Hector before they left for Safe House 3. "Stephanie has been staying with Tank to work through her PTSD and self-confidence issues. He is returning her to Mercer County and wanted us to take over her physical training."

Lester chucked, "Start from zero I imagine."

Bobby smacked his head, "She's been with Tank for 4 weeks, do you really think he's let her eat doughnuts and sit on her butt?"

Ram and Hector chuckled.

Bobby continued, "She was a wreck when she left town. I wasn't sure if she belonged in a mental facility or not. Tank says she's making progress, we'll see where she is now and what we can do for her."

Ram, Hector, Bobby, and Lester arrived at Safe House 3 after dinner. The rural setting helped insure privacy. All cameras were turned off, nobody at Rangeman would see who was in the safe house.

When they entered the house, Tank was waiting. "Where is Beautiful," Lester asked. He was hoping she'd come running into their arms like a long lost family member, which she was.

Tank never smiled, "Situational awareness gentlemen. She is right behind you."

All three spun and stared. Bobby saw a leaner, muscled woman standing at attention. Her face was winter sun tanned. Lester was looking for the long curly hair and the soft blue eyes but instead saw a buff woman with short hair. The blue eyes were still there but not innocent, they saw more steeled. Ram nodded in approval. She looked like she was ready for action in her black tech pants, black turtleneck sweater and black boots. This was the Stephanie he hoped she'd become. Hector showed relief and then a big smile.

"Bomb…?" Lester began.

Tank replied, "Recruit Plum requests you call her Michelle. No more Bomber. Time to tuck Stephanie away, perhaps forever."

"Michelle?"

"It is her middle name. Michelle is exploring the option of going into the military. She knew she needed help preparing herself physically and mentally. You will continue her training here, not at Haywood. We want to keep her far away from Trenton and Rangeman until her metamorphosis is complete. Discretion is the word."

"Military?" Lester asked in shock.

She looked at Tank, "Permission to speak sir."

"Granted."

Looking at Lester, "Sir, this is the fastest way we could work out to reprogram my thinking and attitude. I am trying very hard not to slip back to Bomber; however, if at the end of training…and assuming I pass, you can call me whatever you want. It will no longer refer to my propensity for bombastic occurrences."

"Will the loveable Bomber return?" Lester asked.

"She's still in here, but trying to learn discipline, critical thinking, and responsibility. Long ago you offered to train her, she is taking up your offer so she is not such a detriment to herself and others."

Tank continued, "Once training is complete I want Michelle to work at Rangeman for a few weeks, ending up in client relations. If she still wants to pursue a military, law enforcement career, or other areas she will be free to leave with our love and best wishes.

But right now she must complete her training. She had done an exceptional job so far, now you join in the challenge. Consider yourselves DIs and this is your recruit. Treat her accordingly. She is not to receive a soft ride." Tank paused for emphasis.

"Bobby first aid and physical training, in particular strength. Lester, you will also be part of the physical training but I want her trained in entrance/extraction including rappelling buildings as well as urban tracking. We have already had some instruction in climbing; you will be in charge of more. Hector will be in charge of all electronics from computers, safety systems, and some of his other specialties. I'll work on self-defense, physical training, and class room work. Ram, will be in charge of weapons and water training. I'd like as much of this done here Safe House 3, except for Ram's work which will require a gun range and pool. So your training Ram will be last to lessen her Trenton exposure."

Turning to Michelle Tank said, "Recruit, tomorrow 04:30 wake up, 0500 roadwork, 8 miles, no moose to dodge, I hope. Any of you gentlemen want to join us?"

"Yes sir," Bobby, Lester, Ram and Hector answered.

Recruit Michelle's eyes sparkled, her friends would join her.

"What no salute," Lester asked.

She looked at Tank and raised an eyebrow, a trick she had picked up recently.

"Recruit, stow your middle finger," Tank commanded.

"Good night sirs," she said happily. And she left for her room with a bounce in her step for the first time in a month.

00000000

Tank watched her spring and smiled. She was recovering nicely.

After she was out of hearing range, Lester turned to Tank, "What happened?"

"She was completely shut down after the apartment fire. Bobby and Hal brought her to me. I took her to a remote location where she could not escape and free from electronics. I was hoping her amazing ability to bounce back would kick in. The first day she was alert and coherent. I chanced leaving her alone for three days, praying her self-preservation would kick in. The first 24 hours I watched her through surveillance equipment. When I returned, I was amazed how together she was; she must have done one heck of a full life review! Initially we worked on physical fitness and PTSD exercises we've all been through. She's still brittle so stay with the training mode, don't let her slip back into Stephanie. She gets frustrated, but not whiney. The loving and fun natured Steph is still there but she knows she has to change and is busting her butt working hard. I've brought back some of the PTSD workbooks, work with her. She still has to face what broke her. Bobby, I suspect you'll be best with that, but I didn't want to mention it in front of her."

"Military, is she serious?" Ram asked.

"She wants to stay in law enforcement or security. She believes the best training would be one of the services. She's too old for MP, with her degree they'd funnel her to a desk job, killing her. She has talent in investigation; I'd like to get her trained privately and stay with us or at least remain civilian. If she stays with us, it would only strengthen Rangeman. She's going to be a heck of an asset for Rangeman but we've got to make her strong enough to survive Trenton and especially the Berg and convince the other guys at Rangeman she is no longer the Bombastic Bounty Hunter.

Think about how much time you can put into her training per day or per week, work it out among yourselves and come to me. I'll need my time. Don't be afraid to take her outside. We've been in winter camp for 15 days, she did great. Ram, Hector, I want to speak to these two alone, dismissed."

"Yes sir."

Lester waited until the door was shut. "We got a memo from Washington, Ranger's mission was successful, Guzman and his band are history. Confirmed. It took weeks and was ugly. We lost no one, but several took serious injuries including Ranger."

"Thank God it's over," Tank said. "How bad is he?"

Bobby answered, "Bad. He barely made the evacuation. I'm being kept up to date by the doctors down there. He'll be in hospital another month and least 3 months rehab before he's released. I'd like to go to Miami and work with him. Julie will be good motivation. I'll be here until he gets to rehab. When I leave Bones can take over Michelle's training."

"Agreed."

The next morning at 0500 Michelle was in the front entry stretching. The five other Rangeman joined her. Tank took command. "We will run in formation. Bobby in the rear."

All were wearing black shorts and t-shirts. It was just below freezing outside but they'd be warm shortly. Tank's pace was a bit slower to start, judging the recruit's ability but when he turned around she had a smile on her face, she was among friends. He upped the pace. Bobby watched her run and was impressed how she firmed up. Her stride was perfect, of course, Tank would have corrected it during the previous 3 weeks.

When they returned to the Safe House, she was tired, "Recruit, that was 10 miles, congratulations. From now on that will be your normal morning run." She didn't moan nor did she stand at attention, she just bent over trying to catch her breath and nodded, gasping "Sir."

Each Rangeman congratulated her; " _Con su permiso_ ," Hector asked with his arms outstretched asking for a hug. She felt his arms envelop her and if she was the old Stephanie she would cry, but not now. She simply whispered," _Los he extrañado a todos ustedes."_ (I have missed all of you.)

Hector backed off " _Mi hermana habla_."

00000000

It was now the end of January, five weeks since Stephanie Plum left Trenton, Joe Morelli's insisted Stephanie was still his fiancée since she had not returned the "very expensive" engagement ring. He was convinced Stephanie was being kept at Rangeman and tried to get a court order allowing him to search the building. Rangeman attorneys and the courts shot it down; she was not a fugitive from the law.

On Ground Hog's day, February 2, the news media, Helen Plum, Joe Morelli went to Rangeman to demand to know where Stephanie Plum was and if she was being held against her will. Eddie Gazarra called early on the 2nd warning of the upcoming charade. Bobby, Lester, Tank were with Michelle. Tank hurried back to Trenton. Bones took him into the clinic and fashioned a cast around the big man's leg from toe to mid-thigh. "Why the fuck am I letting you do this?" Tank growled.

"It explains your absence for the past month and a half plus you gain a sympathy card." Bones explained.

"Hell, its cost me a good pair of pants."

The cast was barely dry when Tank angled his way out the lobby door on his crutches for the 2 o'clock show down. A half dozen of Rangeman's larger men were with him. "What the hell is this all about?" Tank barked.

"Where have you been?" demanded Joe Morelli. "You haven't been seen around town."

"Detective Morelli, I've been trying to figure out a way to scratch my leg with this damn thing on it. Any of you ever had a cast?" Several heads nodded.

"My right leg is in a cast, I can't drive, I sure can't ice skate. I have to use these crutches to get around; I've been confined."

"We think you are holed up with my daughter. I demand you produce her," Helen Plum screeched.

"She isn't here. She is an adult, free to do what she wants. I'm assuming after her apartment burned down, she left town."

"We want to search for ourselves," Helen insisted.

There were several "Yeahs" from the crowd.

Tank recognized Valerie, Stephanie-Michelle's sister, Mary Lou her friend, Mrs. Angie Morelli, and the witch Bella Morelli among busy bodies from the Berg. "This is a private business, I'm not bringing this mob into Rangeman. One visitor….Mr. Plum, I will permit you to come in and search this building for your daughter."

Frank Plum had been dragged along by his wife, daughter Valerie and Joe. He tried to hide in the background. Joe and Helen put up a fuss but the media seemed to accept Mr. Plum going in; less than an hour later Frank came back out, "She's not there."

"What did you see?" Asked the newsman.

"Offices, conference rooms, all personnel apartments including an apartment on the 7th floor, custodian and housekeeper accommodations, clinic, and gymnasium, but mostly I saw hard working men keeping Trenton and surrounding areas safe. I talked to nearly a dozen men and none said they had seen or heard from my daughter since Christmas Day, all expressed concern. She was a valued employee here. This witch hunt has gone on long enough. Go back and bother other people, these are honest hard working men."

"They are thugs," Joe responded. "This baboon is the worst of them all."

Apparently Joe forgot to look carefully at the news reporter's dark skin. When the video was sent back to the studio, the news producer sent a copy to the Chief of Police, also dark skinned. The Chief personally came to Rangeman to apologize to Tank in the lobby, cameras rolled.

Tank took the Chief of Police off to the side, "Sir, Detective Morelli's racial outbursts are well known. I have a video from his visit several days after Christmas. Apparently he needs more sensitivity training."

"I'd like to see the video," the chief said.

Tank was hoping he would. After reviewing it, the chief slowly shook his head. "You should hear what her mother says about her."

"I've heard. Is it any wonder Stephanie left Trenton?" Tank responded.

"She's gone?"

"She has no love for her family or Joe Morelli and his cheating ways."

Finally the chief and news cameras left Bones removed the cast. The next morning Joe Morelli was suspended from the TPD for 30 days.

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It was now the sixth week and Valentine's Day, February 14th. Tank wanted to test Michelle's mental development. He casually asked Michelle, "Do you still have Joe's ring?"

"Yes, the jeweler's appraisal and picture of the ring on my hand. I was going to send them to Terry Gilman but haven't had the chance."

"May I suggest you give it to her personally?"

The old Stephanie Plum would have sputtered, whined, and been afraid. But her mental challenges were teaching her to picture positive outcomes. The more she pictured herself presenting the ring and appraisal to Terry the more convinced she became she could do it.

"What better day than Valentine's plus I know where she and her uncle will be tonight. You can waltz in, put the ring down and walk out," he smiled.

A wicked grin spread over her face, "Will Joe be present?"

"Probably not, he's in hot water with TPD again. He's probably drinking his sorrows away at Pino's, but we'll find out."

The event was being held at Marcellano's restaurant, a new upscale Italian restaurant outside Trenton. Ella, the Rangeman housekeeper and den-mother to all Rangeman employees had been called in to find suitable sexy attire for Michelle, aka Stephanie. Ella hit a home run with a burgundy colored dress with a top that accented her newly developed arms and shoulders; cut in on the sides to show hard sculpted abs and slit up to near danger zone showing a fine muscled leg.

"Go get 'em Mitch," Tank said using Michelle's new nickname. He opened the door to the rented silver sedan; a black car might have been identified as belonging to Rangeman. Slipping the wrap from her shoulders, after all it was February, she walked to the restaurant's podium: "Uncle Vito's party, please". The maître d assumed the lovely buff woman with the short curly dark hair was a member of "the family." Before she entered the room the hired security man from Rangeman, Ram, ran a wand over her body. He didn't dare wink but his eyes sparkled and he nodded as he opened the door. Stepping through Michelle paused and scanned the room for familiar faces. Many she knew including Connie Rizolli. Not seeing Joe she continued to Terry who was sitting next to her uncle. In proper Italian Berg manners she acknowledged the mob boss, "Mr. Grizolli." Then turning to Terry Gilman, she placed the ring and papers on the table, "I told Joe Morelli I would give you my engagement ring. I have a pass for the night and decided to give it to you personally." After putting the ring and papers on the table, Michelle turned and began walking out before anybody realized who she was. "Stephanie?" Terry gasped. Michelle turned and gave Terry a cold granite stare until Terry blinked. Michelle nodded, "Mr. Grazolli" and walked out the door, out of the restaurant and into the silver sedan parked by the front door. Ram watched and smiled.

A gentleman turned to Connie Rizolli, "Who was that?" Connie shook her head, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

When Terry looked at the ring, the picture of it on Stephanie's hand and then read the appraisal, she let out a terrific laugh, "The rumors were right. That cheap bastard gave Stephanie Plum a $79.98 ring that now has a resale of less than $25.00. Expensive ring my ass, Morelli."

The Berg gossip line was back on fire, the diamond ring was fake just as had been rumored before. The second rumor was Stephanie Plum must have joined the military, she had attitude and muscle.

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As Stephanie buckled her seat belt, Tank asked, "How do you feel?"

"I have a strong urge to castrate Joe but I don't want to damage my dress."

"That would be messy. Think of something else, we are going to PIno's. By the way, he's still on suspension for racial slurs."

When they pulled in front of Pino's Tank said, "He's in there, at the bar. You have Rangeman cover in there. Don't break him, Mitch, he isn't worth it."

She went in and immediately saw Woody, Raphael, and Hector. They knew she was coming. She remained near the front door in her sexy as hell dress. The noise level began to fall off as people were not sure who the woman was. Joe turned to face the door, but Michelle was half way to the bar.

Joe was momentarily confused due in part to the beer, should he hit on this sexy woman. Before he could decide, Michelle picked up a glass of beer and threw it in Joe's face, "I gave Terry Gilman my engagement ring and appraisal in front of at least 75 other people including Uncle Vito. She and everyone else know what a cheap bastard you are. I am here to make it official, we are no longer engaged, you JackA**."

Joe was stunned from the beer toss and inadvertently gasped, "Cupcake?"

Like Thor's lightning bolt the shot to the groin doubled him over. She grabbed his hand, twisted it around him and held him with a thumb lock, "Never speak to me again, you filth."

Joe coughed, "Assault on a policeman."

"You are on suspension."

She drove him to the floor, used her foot to push him onto his side as he hold his groin. Nobody said a word or moved. Most were staring at the New Stephanie Plum. Applause erupted from the restaurant first led by TPD officers in attendance; Big Dog, Gaspick, Robin Russel, Costanza and Gazarra and later the entire restaurant. She didn't stay around to acknowledge the accolades.

Tank was smiling as he shut down his phone, he had been watching thanks to Hector's feed, "Standing ovation?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you want to go for a triple with your family?"

"No, it's nearly 20:30, bed time."

The next day Bones did Michelle's physical evaluation. At the six week mark Michelle was running 40 miles a week, lifting close to her body weight, could tick off 75 sit ups and crunches, 50 pushups and 25 pull ups. Her heart rate was down in the 50's blood pressure was ideal. Bobby had introduced yoga and dance to her workout improving her flexibility. Ella was her instructor. "How do you think I stay in shape?" the older woman said with a wink. "Luis and I go out dancing to the Latin Club twice a week."

Tank had been working on hand to hand with her; she could take a punch and give it right back. He outweighed her by over 100 pounds so preferred Hector spar with her. Hector was having to work harder and harder with each session.

Tank and Lester worked with her on takedowns, she was fast. She had gained quickness working with Lester out in the field. Lester's approach to physical training was something he had been doing himself. Instead of long sessions on a treadmill, bicycle, or weights, he alternated he traditional exercises with what he called terrain training. He climbed anything climbable from rock walls, trees, ropes and poles. He ran a complicated agility course which combined running, leaping, jumping, climbing, crawling, and other actions. He was using all his muscle groups in strength building but also major cardio. Michelle found the diversity exciting and was motivated to work harder instead of being stuck in a gym. As her body became harder so did her attitude, she COULD do whatever she put her mind to do and given time, she was better, faster and stronger. Yes, she'd give the Bionic Woman a run. The night with the engagement ring and Joe Morelli was the first test Tank had devised, she passed with flying colors.

By the eighth she had earned kudos from her instructors. She was not only on par with Army basic instruction, she was far ahead. "Maybe you should apply for Ranger school," Lester kidded but then saw the sudden hurt in her eyes. She wasn't over his cousin.

The final instruction was with Ram. Not only was she expected to qualify with handguns and rifles, he was also putting her through some SEAL training. She thought she'd have no trouble swimming but what she wasn't counting on was her loss of body fat and increased muscle mass made her less buoyant. She thought back to the time she was dropped into the Delaware and how easily she floated, she wondered now if Ranger was actually using her buoyancy to keep himself afloat.

"First test, Mitch, 50 yards totally underwater," Ram ordered. From there the tests got harder, she passed them all. She had previously done scuba, he didn't have the facility to upgrade her certification, but would like to at a future time. With her confidence flying high, she aced the weapons training. Her response was a wry grin, "Didn't think I could do it, did you?"

Ram broke into a big smile, "Stephanie no, but the new Michelle or Mitch can do anything she puts her mind to."

At 9 weeks Tank reviewed her training reports: "You qualify easily for Rangeman and might give several of the guys a run for their money."

"What about the military?"

"Before you rush off to talk to a recruiter, we have a new guy at Rangeman, he just came out of Army MP. Talk to him. See if MP is what you want to do. If you are still interested in CID we can talk to a recruiter. The third option, employment at Rangeman still stands and we will add investigation schooling."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **A/N: I'm trying to go back and correct mistakes in past chapters, but I know I won't catch everything. Please read with gentle eyes. Each line is often rewritten several times and I don't always get my tenses corrected, left-out words...etc. I'm pushing this out fast so as not to leave you hanging. Eleni**

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 **Rumors** around Trenton were Stephanie Plum had joined the military. Nobody knew what service but the night she appeared at the Grizolli dinner she mentioned a "pass." Berg rumors assumed she had joined the Army and was at Combined base McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst. Problem was it is not a basic training facility but gossipers don't rely on truth for their fodder.

The rumors had filtered back to Haywood and of course all for former military men knew there was no way she was at McGuire-Dix two months after the Christmas catastrophe. Being intelligent men they put the information together, "I think the Core Team has her isolated and are helping her."

At the end of the 9th week of training, Charlie, the former MP, came to Safe House 3. He was a 10 year veteran, 28 years old. He looked like a Rangeman, tall perhaps 6'3", built broad and strong. His hair was short, eyes blue and a granite stare that seemed to be standard around Haywood. Intimidation.

Tank introduced him, "Mitch, this is Charlie. I'll leave you two alone to talk and will come back to answer questions."

"Thank you sir," Michelle said gratefully. "Charlie, do you know why you are here?"

"Yes ma'am. You are considering enlisting to become an MP. I'm here to tell you what to expect. First of all ma'am, how old are you, 25?

"No sir, I'm older. I'm 31."

He winced. "Ma'am, you would be going up against men and women 7 years younger than you. While you appear to be able to hold your own against them now, in 5 years you will be 36, they will be 23, 10 years you'd be 41, they'd be 28.

She hadn't considered that but kept her emotions under control.

"As an MP your duties will vary. You may be working the entry gates, perimeters, directing traffic on bases, working as a prison guard at Git-Mo, Levenworth or other penal institutions here and overseas. You may be guarding any military facility, weapons, fuel, aircraft in near Arctic conditions, ungodly hot deserts, or steamy tropical climates. MPs also deal with soldiers or dependents who…have lost their way shall we say. Drugs and alcohol are a big factor in MPs lives. Also there is abuse, spousal, girlfriend, children or just plain random attacks."

"I see, what about CID?"

"You start where the MPs leave off so cases may range from murders, burglaries, narco crimes, family abuse or economic crimes. What is your education level?"

"BA in Business."

"Good. That gives you a boost, but you still would have to undergo Vocational Aptitutde Battery and AF Classifications tests. Just because you want CID doesn't mean you'd get it. Beware, CID and MP are highly sought after career tracts, the competition to get in is great. They can afford to skim off the top. And once you are in, you'd be expected to take more advanced classes just to keep your GT scores up. You are always working towards advancement. When you faulter, you are shown the door.

Let's look at CID training, as with MP you need to pass Basic and serve your first tour. At that point you are given your MOS….military occupational specialty. If you are fortunate to get CID, training is 5 months and includes courses like autopsies, economic crimes, narco crimes, and investigation techniques. You are required to serve 3 years. So from enlistment to the end of your commitment, you are looking at 5 years. If you are able to remain for 20 years through very hard work and advancement you would qualify for a pension.

"Are you saying I'm too old?"

"Can you see yourself at 45+ years old MP handling a prison riot?"

"I would hope in 15 years I'd have some seniority".

"You'd have to work you ass off for the privledge to sit on said ass in some Pentagon office…if you are fortunate."

"What about a 45+ year old CID?"

"Same deal, work like hell to retain your position. Granted the chances of being pummeled by some 6'5" drug crazed sergeant are less, you had better be up in rank. The way to last is to have a badly needed speciality, like forensic accounting.

Mitch, everything that a police officer out here encounters, occurs in the military, but this time all over the world. The big difference is many of your criminals have been trained in combat to kill.

She thought of Joe Morelli and other TPD officers and how their lives had changed the longer they worked. Burn out was common unless they were promoted to administration staff. But wasn't bond apprehension chasing down society's problems? Does she want to be 45 year old bond apprehension agent?

"Why did you leave?"

"I got tired of dealing with 6'5" 22 year old sergeants flying high on meth and who knows what else."

"So you think I'm wrong for looking at a military career?"

"At this age, I'd encourage you look to the business side where you already have your degree; finance for example or human resources. While you could probably handle yourself as an MP now, in a few years your body will begin to rebel, not heal as quickly. If you were eight to ten years younger, in this shape, I'd say go for it and would have been honored to serve with you."

Michelle stood and extended her hand, "Thank you Charlie, you've been honest. I need that. I'm tired of being coddled. I need to develop discipline and focus."

"Ma'am, if you work for Rangeman, why are you considering leaving, if I may ask?"

"I am a former Rangeman employee hired under special circumstances. As I am right now, I am not suited to work for Rangeman or much else."

Charlie had a thousand questions, but stopped himself, "Ma'am." He exited without another word.

She stood looking out of the window when Tank came in, "Mitch?" he asked.

"He thinks I'm too old."

"You are at the top end."

"He doesn't think I can compete with the 18 year olds."

"Not before your training, now I wouldn't bet against you," he chuckled.

"But what about 5 years from now?"

"I won't sugar coat it, each year older you have to work harder to stay where you are."

"How do you guys stay at the top?"

"We work like hell. Look at Lester. Mitch, you still don't have to make your decision right now. Work at Rangeman for a while. Let's see if your physical and mental training took."

"So I'm about to be introduced back into the Rangeman population?"

"Yes, there's an apartment on 4 open. You'll rotate jobs just as everyone else does but since you are familiar with searches and backgrounds, you'll rotate through there as well. Your duties will include field work, monitors, and searches. I also want to teach you client relations both in signing new clients but also managing accounts. We have more and more women businessmen looking for security, having a woman on staff will be helpful."

"Burg?"

Burg is in a time warp, a boil on society's backside. You would be kept away until we know you can handle all the narrow minded BS that comes from there. Our new clients are coming from north of Trenton, we may be forced to open a new facility someday.

She remained standing at the window, "You've been planning this."

"I won't lie; the more I worked with you the more I realized you would do well either way, military or civilian. I'm still letting you decide but hope you stay with Rangeman, for a while at least. Once you have a work history, experience, you will be in a better position to decide what is best for you; stay with Rangeman, help us expand, or move on elsewhere."

She watched several birds jump through the trees, "My family is dead to me and the Burg feels like a pit of vipers. How will the rest of the Rangeman accept me?"

"Your show at Pino's with Joe energized our guys, they truly miss you. You're respected and loved every single one of them. You didn't judge them by appearance, they remember that. Some will remember the old Bombhell Stephanie but once they see the new Michelle, Steph will be a distant memory. But, Michelle, it is still a building of men. I urge you to go slow with personal relations. Get all your shit squared away before you start messing around with sex, love and all that crap."

"Sir, you are being a bit prudish," she kidded.

"Michelle, it is very easy to love you and you give—or gave your love willingly, but you didn't have the emotional maturity to handle it. Love isn't just about sex nor is it always heart and flowers; it is hard choices, accepting imperfections and disappointments, not forcing your will on someone or letting them control you. Your skewed thinking thanks to your family has left you distrusting, doubtful and indecisive. That's what I've been trying to change. Until your foundation is strong, stay celibate. You dodged the two catastrophic marriages, let's first work on Michelle.

"Just say no?"

"Say no, but also reestablish your birth control."

Old Stephane would have stuck her tongue out, the new one gave Tank a glare worthy of Ranger. He laughed, "Oh you are already a Rangeman."

 **The Return**

Tank and Michelle arrived late to Haywood. Only those on monitors saw the couple come into the building; Tank obviously but a slender woman with short hair and a hat pulled low over her face.

She was shown to her apartment on 4. Ella was inside waiting for her. "Welcome home my dear. I have new clothes for you in your new sizes. When you get time off, I'd love to shop with you."

"Yes ma'am, I'd love that too."

"I've stocked your kitchen with your new foods. If you need something else, let me know." As Ella was beginning to leave, "I forgot to mention it at the Safe House, but I like the hair, it's under control."

Michelle laughed, "Quite a difference. Why didn't I change it before?"

"You know why." Ella winked and walked out the door.

Before Ella closed the door, Michelle called out, "Ella, is Rex still alive?"

"Cal has him in his room. He's become taken with the little guy and talks to him about when you were coming home."

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Like clockwork, she woke at 04:30, did her bathroom business, changed into her workout clothes and headed to the gym. Hopefully the guys in there were still half asleep.

The gym gossip was there was a new woman at Rangeman. Only Stephanie Plum had invaded this male domain, what would the new one be like?

A very short brown haired woman with a chiseled face clearly showing strong cheekbones entered the gym. She was dressed in workout-shorts and tank bra entered the gym. Her body was lean, broad shouldered, a bit muscular. Her breasts were small, stomach washboard flat with ab development. The hips weren't slender but strong as were her legs. Michelle stood at parade rest, "The name is Michelle or Mitch. In time you may add the second part, if I earn it," she said with a smile.

The smile did it, the curve of her mouth and beautiful blue eyes gave her away.

"Bomber?" Vince sputtered.

"No Vince, Michelle. That other person has been retired."

Unbeknown to Michelle, Tank had come into the gym. "This is Michelle, you knew her by another name. She has been in training and now works for Rangeman. I expect you to treat her with respect. As with all new employees she will be working all areas. I expect all of you to continue her training. This person deserves a life free from her past. If you must gossip about her outside of Rangeman like little old ladies, please refer to her as Michelle or Mitch and never by the former name. That person is gone."

Tank moved to a treadmill and began his workout. Michelle did her stretches before she went to the bicycle. After she was warmed up, Lester came over, "What to show them what you can do on the mats?" he said with a wink.

After a 20 minutes sparring with Lester, the others realized this was not the old Stephanie Plum. This one could kick ass. By the end of the work out, the men applauded, "Good going Steph..Michelle!"

At 07:00 she reported to Lester's office. "My duties sir?"

"First you need a physical exam. Bobby is away. Would you be comfortable with Bone's doing the exam?"

She thought a minute. "Yes, but will he be comfortable with me?"

Lester smiled, "Good question. He's been told you will report to him. If he's hiding, you have your answer."

"Sir, when is Bobby coming back?"

"He's working at other facilities, making sure those guys aren't screwing up. I don't know when he'll be back." He hated lying to Michelle. Bobby was working with Ranger. "After Bones, you are expected at the gun range with Ram to qualify."

"Sir?"

"It's a formality, you qualified last week but we have to play by the rules for our insurers. After that, we will photograph and finger print you for your new Rangeman ID. You realize your driver's license can't be easily changed with the Real ID regulations."

"Yes sir, hopefully I won't need to be flashing it around, at least around the Burg."

"You will be on monitors this afternoon as are all new recruits. You will serve one day on and one day off. The alternate day will be patrol, four sectors with south on the fourth tour."

That would keep her out of the Burg for 8 days. She was easing back in. As she left Lester's office she found the new command structure, different. Ranger was gone, Tank moved to the big office and Lester is the new "Tank." Well, a new Michelle should fit in well.

Monitors were still hard and afterwards she wanted to run, run, run. In the past she would have fallen asleep at the desk and later fallen into a pint of B&J out of frustration. Hector offered to run with her the first day. "I can't believe I like to exercise."

" _Si,_ it is good for your mind as well as your body. You are an athlete now."

Gradually the need to run after monitor duty was replaced with the need to work out in the gym. She learned why Ranger liked the beat the punching bags, it was cathartic. Gino gave her some instruction on kicks and she eagerly kicked until her body said, "enough." She alternated early morning gym work with running. Hector was always available for an early morning run and often several others. During the runs she couldn't help but think of the first time Ranger ran with her and Benito Ramirez met her along with way. So many mistakes back then, it was amazing she survived. Now she ran with a group, not only was it safer, it was more fun.

Her old work, search and background, was prefect for the late March snowy day. With her new found ability to concentrate, she whipped through her in box with record speed. No doubt Rodriguez the night clerk would increase her work load. She had finished early and was on her way to the gym when Tank caught her. "There's a call from the main desk down stairs. Your father is asking if you are here. Apparently he saw you one morning running with the guys."

"Is he alone?"

"Yes."

"May we use a conference room?"

"You may use room three. I'll send someone to show him to the room. I assume you don't need me."

"No."

Frank Plum was sitting patiently. He didn't know if the big black guy with the leg cast who used to come to the house with Ranger would show up or someone else. The door opened and his daughter walked in. She was thinner, harder, her face was chiseled. Her crazy curls were tamed by a shorter, much shorter haircut. He had always encouraged her to cut it, but her mother insisted it would be unlady-like until she was married. "Pumpkin?"

"Mr. Plum."

Frank was taken aback and hurt.

"I'm surprised you don't call me Anthony Franco, sir."

He sat suddenly and put his head down in his hands. "I'm not going to ask how you found out, it doesn't matter. I was….devastated; a son gone and no more possible. You mother went crazy for a while."

"A while Mr. Plum? Try 31 years. I was the wrong sex, I was the imperfect daughter. I could do no right. You did nothing to help me."

"I tried initially Pumpkin, I tried but she became more and more difficult."

"So when Joe Morelli sexually abused me at 6, you thought that was OK?"

"He what?!"

"Did you and that woman ever speak except to pass the gravy at the table? I'm surprised you sleep in the same bed. So you thought it was OK when he raped me at 16?"

"Your mother said you were sexually promiscuous."

"He raped me at Tasty Pastry! He took my virginity without my permission. Was that being promiscuous? Instead of calling the police, she blamed me, the victim! She told me how embarrassed she'd be if word got out at St. Frances I was there for rape. She called me a whore and kept me locked up all summer making sure I menstruated on schedule so I wasn't pregnant."

Frank was shaken and paced around the conference room. "I was working double shifts to afford college for you and Valerie, I wasn't around much."

"Sir, I appreciate the college education more than you know, but I was a fool, I didn't escape Trenton after college. I returned to the Burg and her abuse. I was still trying to please her, trying for love from the both of you. It took me to completely fall to pieces at Christmas to realize neither of you loved me, you rejected my existence. You didn't talk and that's all she did, criticize, complain, and belittle. I can understand you missing a son, someone to take hunting and fishing. I would have gladly gone with you but that woman would never allow such un-lady like activities. For someone who hates me being alive she won't release her hooks! Continually she knocked me down. I was her cause to martyrdom, "Poor me, I have Stephanie for a daughter." Well, I'm gone. I no longer use the name you and she bestowed on me, it sickens my stomach to hear it. When I get enough money I will legally change my last name from Plum so the two of you are no longer embarrassed by me. You have perfect Saint Valerie, what more do you need?"

"I wish you wouldn't change your name."

"It's the same name as …..Her! She wanted me to marry a rich attorney so she could have status. She was furious when I divorced the cheating scum. Then she wanted me to marry Joseph Morelli, the man who raped me. Do you know why he called me Cupcake? When my mind broke, all the memories came back. After he raped me he said I wasn't that great, it was like fucking a cupcake."

Frank blanched and sat down.

"Your wife wanted me to marry someone who raped me because his father's name and his middle name were Anthony. Any male child I might bear, she could insist be named Anthony, maybe even Anthony Franco. How sick is that? I was to be a brood mare for her to get her son back."

He sat quiet for a while. Just like he sat every night listening to his wife complain about everything and gossip, gossip, gossip. He learned to turn it all off, but also turned off his daughters. Valerie was socially conscious, talking down about others while Stephanie always had such a loving heart, but was hurt over and over by his wife. Valerie was a carbon copy of his wife, but what was Stephanie now? Broken and bitter. Was she ever really happy or distrusting and doubtful?

"I know you loved Ranger."

"You wife only saw his skin color. Ranger and I loved each other but she was always pushing Morelli in my face. Ranger could not commit to marriage. He made enemies as an Army Ranger. One mission failed and the target has sought vengeance all these years; killing team members and their families. Carlos loved me enough to walk away, keeping me safe. In fact he may be dead now trying to put an end to the nightmare. He left believing Joe would protect me. Joe never intended to marry me; he just wanted Ranger out of the picture. Once gone, Joe refused to discuss marriage and when I brought it up; he smacked me around and then raped me again. He just wants someone to keep his bed warm. Dickie Orr was unfaithful, but he never raped me. Joe Morelli is nothing more than Morelli scum with a civil servant job.

When I saw Terry in Joe's arms and then my apartment building on fire Christmas Day, I shattered. I had nothing, zero. Joe had forced Ranger to leave, forced me to quite working for Vinnie. My apartment was the last of ME I had left before I surrendered myself to a living death. Fortunately my friends here got me help. I'm still not healed emotionally, but I'm getting there."

"I never believed you were in the military. You would have had to be inducted before New Years, the Army doesn't work that fast. But seeing you now I have to ask, are you enlisting?"

"I haven't decided. I'm a bit too old for physical MOS. About all I could do now is administration support. I loved bond apprehension but I was too repressed by THAT WOMAN messing my brain all these years to get proper training. That's changed. I'm getting training. I'm stronger, I have skills I didn't have before. I may stay here, I may transfer to another Rangeman facility in another state, I may go into the military, don't know. But one thing is for certain, I will never set foot in the Plum house again."

"Pumpkin, I'm sorry."

"It is way too late now, an apology means nothing to me, but if you are truly sorry, rescue Valerie's girls. Valerie has been brain washed and she and THAT woman are inflicting the same soul destroying degradation that nearly cost me my life. Mary Alice is a lot like me and I suspect Angie is just better able to compartmentalize. In the future they may not have a Dr. Bobby, Tank, Lester and others for the support I did when I crashed. For once, **_Daddy_** , stand up and be a man before that woman destroys another generation."

Michelle turned and walked out. She wasn't crying, she was heading to the gym to beat the stuffings out of a punching bag. Tank was in the hall and let her go. He went in and got Mr. Plum.

Frank looked up, "I know you rescued my girl. You have done more for her in months that I did for her over the years. I wasn't a father, I was an enabler. She was hurt, physically and mentally and I did nothing. My eyes are finally opening. I hope you and her other friends can give her the happiness she deserves."

Frank drove to a neighborhood bar and ordered a drink. He said nothing, he sat and thought of the daughter he lost and the many ways he did nothing to raise his daughters. He was the bread winner, but not the family leader. If anything his wife controlled him the way she controlled the girls. If he wanted to go to his grave proud of his life, he had better get started correcting his mistakes. He glanced at his watch, it was nearly 6 pm. Somebody would be upset. He pulled into the Plum house driveway noting the Kloughns were present. It was Friday night, mandatory performance by Valerie and family.

"Where have you been? It's 6:15, dinner is ruined," Helen complained.

Without a word he went and sat down at the table. He looked at his granddaughters; Angie sat quietly looking down at her hands. Mary Alice was all energy fighting to contain it. Little Lisa was still a baby, fussy. Valerie was beside herself trying to control the baby and watch the girls. Albert sat like a lump, reminding Frank of himself. Edna sat and watched, waiting. She knew something was coming. At the other end of the table sat Helen. Her ice tea glass filled with Johnny Walker and ice.

The platter and bowls were passed, "The roast is now dry, it was perfect at the proper dinner time," she announced. Frank reframed from rolling his eyes. Everyone helped themselves. As usual there were no vegetables. No wonder he had trouble with his bowels. His diet was all starch, meat and sugars. The belly fat was an indication he had not been caring for himself…for years.

"Where did you go Daddy? We had to wait for you before we could eat. You know the girls get antsy waiting," Valerie said almost mimicking a young Helen Plum.

He groaned inside, she was becoming her mother. "I went to see an amazing person."

"Who grandpa," Mary Alice asked as a fork full of mashed potatoes dropped onto the table.

"Mary Alice, look what you have done," Valerie scolded.

He looked straight at Helen Plum, "So help me Helen if you open your mouth, you will be out that door."

Helen's head snapped back, "What?"

"For 31 years I sat here and watched you destroy an amazing individual; failing to love her, disparaging and condemning her because she was not dead. Anthony Franco Plum died 29 years ago, but you killed Stephanie Michelle Plum as surely as the under developed lungs killed baby Anthony.

Helen began to speak.

"SHUT UP HELEN!" Frank yelled.

Everyone gasped.

"I sat here like a lump and let a woman control the family, the same way Albert is sitting here now. You two women have castrated us making us believe only you know what is good for our girls. You both are wrong! I was wrong. I let you turn Valerie into another insignificant Burg robot who keeps her windows clean, cooks ham on Sunday and ziti on Wednesday, ignores healthy vegetables, and is only qualified to work menial jobs. Stephanie was different, she wanted more, just like Mary Alice and I suspect Angie want more. But no, you drove Stephanie to believe she too would be a Burg Stepford wife first to that cheater Dickie Orr, God what an awful name. And then to that …..he hesitated and looked at the young girls at the table…that abuser Morelli. He is just like his father, uncles and brothers, but hides it better. I imagine you've been too drunk to notice her bruises inflicted by Morelli AFTER he made her quit working for Vinnie."

Helen bucked back, "That's a lie!"

Frank glared. "Joseph said they'd be married in two months, that was three months ago. Do they have a date? He refused to set one and beat her when she asked. Where was he Christmas Eve? In church with his fiancé? No he was….looking at his granddaughters he rethought his answer. He was entertaining another woman in his home.

Anthony Franco, our son, died because he was premature and too weak. Stephanie nearly died of parental abuse and neglect of which I am as much responsible for not stepping up and protecting her from Joseph Morelli and you, Helen Mazur Plum. In spite of the abuse she has received, she has become a magnificent woman and the only daughter I am proud of."

Valerie gasped.

Turning to Albert, "It is time for you to find your gonads mister. Lisa is your biological daughter and your responsibility. You must take a hand in raising her to be something other than the zombie you call your wife. As for your step daughters, if you stay around, they need help now to become far better than what these two women can develop.

As for you Valerie, it's time you grow a brain, become something better than your mother, or you will be sitting at the end of your own table, stinking drunk like that harpy and half the other Burg women who have fallen into irrelevance."

"Grandpa, is Aunt Stephanie dead?" Mary Alice asked with tears starting to form in her eyes.

"She is dead to this family, we killed her through abuse and neglect. Fortunately she has friends who have saved her, love her, and are helping her."

"Probably those thugs…"

"ENOUGH HELEN! I've had it with your racial slurs, gossiping, running down people you do not know, and especially with your drunkenness. You have continually pushed my daughter into abusive relationships, refusing to let her be her own person. You will leave the table and go upstairs NOW."

Helen was too shocked to reply. She chugged the last of her "ice tea" and went upstairs.

Turning to Valerie, Frank said, "Please remove the dishes and take home all the left overs." Valerie rose and grabbed the pot roast platter and went into the kitchen.

Turning to the girls, "I'm sorry I lost my temper tonight. Your aunt Stephanie is badly injured by all the bad things your grandmother and other people have said about her. It hurt me deeply to see her pain. I love her more than anything right now. I want the best for her just as I want the best for you two. Her friends are helping her get better."

Mary Alice started to cry and ran to her grandfather, "I love you grandpa. I hope Aunt Stephanie gets better, she loves me more than mommy and grandma do."

Angie sat while tears silently started down her cheeks, "I love you grandpa, please help Aunt Stephanie. I don't want to live here anymore where they hurt people."

Frank noticed, "Come here Angie, come let grandpa hold you."

After the girls cried on their grandfathers shoulders, Frank set them back down. "I need to talk with Albert, will you be OK?"

Frank motioned to Albert to move into the living room. "Tomorrow I'm filing for divorce from Helen. You have a conflict of interest; I will not use you as an attorney."

"Thank you."

Edna Mazur rose quietly and went to help Valerie.

"What just happened, grandma?" Valerie asked still in shock.

"The man needs to be the leader in the house, not a dictator, but a leader. Your father just woke up. He has been dead in his heart since he lost his son."

"I don't remember the baby."

"You were about 3, not quite 4, he was still very young. His lungs were never strong. Your mother wanted one daughter she could mold into her narrow minded likeness and a son. Stephanie never fit, she was an unwanted girl plus she was never moldable like you. She is an intelligent free spirit who wanted to fly beyond being a Burg wife. Mary Alice is just like Stephanie. Your mother resented she could not control Stephanie just as you resent Mary Alice."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **For all who have asked, some questions answered here.**

 **Frank Plum** asked Tank at Rangeman for the name of a good attorney, not trusting his son-in-law's recommendation. The choice was wise; Helen Plum was represented by Albert Kloughn's incompetent legal suggestion.

Frank Plum divorcing Helen ignited the Burg. Frank was considered a henpecked husband who bowed to his wife. He worked at the Post Office, got his pension, drove a cab for a few clients, spent his days at the lodge with other retired men and evenings in front of the television with his newspaper. The Burg was surprised he even noticed Helen anymore.

Everyone awaited a spectacle in the courtroom and they got it on the first day when Helen arrived having spent the morning with her good friend Johnny Walker. She was belligerent and disrespectful to her husband, her dissing daughter Stephanie, and her mother Edna Mazur. The later insults made no sense.

The judge called the attorneys and their clients into chambers after a particularly vicious Helen Plum outburst.

"Mr. Plum," the judge said, "Do you believe your wife is an alcoholic?"

"Yes, sir."

"I am not, I just tipple now and then," Helen shot back.

"Why have you not gotten her help?"

Helen was in fine form, "I am not an alcoholic! I am cursed by my daughter that should not have lived. She's never obeyed me, never learned to cook or sew but preferred to ride her bicycle all the time. Her marriage lasted 3 months. She now works for my husband's despicable cousin at a bail bonds office instead of getting a proper lady's job. She works with black thugs bringing other thugs back to jail. She refuses to marry a nice Burg man, a police officer, because he would force her to quit her job and have children. That's what a proper Burg woman does; she keeps her husband happy and bears him children. Now my granddaughter, Mary Alice, is misbehaving like Stephanie did. She refuses to dress appropriately, prefers boys toys to dolls, doesn't know how to sit still and it's all because of her aunt. Is it any wonder I tipple now and then. My life is ruined by my daughter!"

Frank sat patiently and when Helen unwound he answered, "Until recently I preferred to ignore her rants and rages but when I realized how badly she has hurt my daughter, Stephanie, with her derisive tirades as well as her alcohol issues, I knew I could no longer remain married to her."

"Frank, I told you I am not an alcoholic! I drink to calm my nerves and to cope with life. A life with you is like living with a deaf rock. The only things you've said to me over the last ten years is 'pass the gravy' and 'when is Valerie going to marry the clown?" Helen blasted.

Within an hour the divorce was granted. Frank gladly gave Helen the house, the furnishings and one car. He received his workshop tools, his car and most importantly, his retirement pension. Helen insisted Valerie and family move into the Plum house but in a moment of clarity Albert counted heads, divided by three bedrooms and still only 1 bathroom. He flatly refused to move.

"Mama needs help. Daddy left her with nothing." Valerie whined to Albert.

"She has a house she could sell, invest the money and live comfortably in a small apartment," Albert countered to no avail.

Albert's income barely covered his family's needs; suddenly Valerie wanted to help her mother and grandmother. Valerie took on a job leaving the children to Helen's care. That lasted a week when Angie reported Helen had dropped baby Lisa while reaching for her "ice tea" bottle in the upper cabinet.

Albert gave Valerie an ultimatum; your mother or our marriage. Valerie chose her mother and Albert left with Lisa. The next day Frank Plum filed with the courts to remove Angie and Mary Alice from a dangerous home. It took weeks but by the time social services investigated they confirmed that the girls were indeed in danger citing the tirades of Mrs. Plum. Social services insisted Mrs. Plum be evaluated before the girls would be allowed to visit her. Valerie resisted and the courts awarded the girls to the care of their grandfather. The Plum family was in ruins. The older Burg residents continued to blame the missing Stephanie for the Albert-Valerie breakup. Younger ones with clearer eyesight realized the problem was with Helen Plum after all.

Frank petitioned the courts to move to Florida to a better school district. Reluctantly the courts agreed when Valerie said she needed to spend more time with her mother than her girls. Before he and the girls moved, they went to visit Michelle at Rangeman. It was hard for Mitch to remain outside the ring of the Plum scandal but had wisely remained absent. When Michelle entered the Rangeman conference room she rushed into the arms of her two nieces.

"Aunt Stephanie, you look so different." Angie gushed.

"Yes Angie, I had problems too. I've been working to improve myself and gain confidence."

"Grandma used to say bad things about you," Mary Alice said sadly.

"Yes MA she did and it hurt me deeply. But with help from friends I've discovered I'm a good person." Looking at MA Michelle continued, "And you too Mary Alice are a good and wonderful person. You too Angie. You both deserve a life where you can be happy and not have people yell at you all the time."

Frank announced he was taking the girls far away from the Burg. "We are going to Melbourne, Florida, to a better school district."

Michelle turned her head, "You going to live with Sal, your brother?"

"Not live with him, just in the same area. He has grandchildren about the same age as these lovely girls. So there's family in place."

"Will you come and see us Aunt Stephanie," they pleaded.

"You can bet on it. You know how I love the ocean. I think I should have been born a fish," she smiled.

"I don't know why grandma hated you, you've always been my best friend," Mary Alice said.

"Grandma had hate in her heart sweetheart for anyone not like her. She didn't like people who looked different, believed or acted different. To her the world was in Chambersburg and nothing beyond. She has alcohol problems and perhaps some mental issues too. Your mother is staying behind to look after your grandmother. Your grandfather will take good care of you.

I want you to remember, love everyone. Even if you disagree with them, love them. They may look funny; be a different color, speak funny, maybe have a medical problem, or believe differently than you do or even bully you. Fill you heart with love to keep the evil away."

She then looked up at her father, "Daddy, I'm so happy you are going to take care of Angie and Mary Alice and raise them with love and understanding. I'm so proud of you. I hope Albert and you can stay in touch and you will be in Lisa's life as well."

"Thank you Pumpkin, err, Michelle. I'm proud of you too."

"Her name is Stephanie, grandpa", Mary Alice corrected.

"No Mary Alice, I'm now using my middle name, Michelle. I felt so unloved and confused that I knew I had to change me because I couldn't change others. When I became stronger, I decided to change my name to go with my new attitude. I don't let others try to change me; I don't let others talk down to me."

"Aunt ...Michelle...are you living with Ranger?" Angie asked.

The question knocked her in the heart. "Ranger is gone, he had something important he had to do overseas and he may have died. I haven't heard."

"Was he in the Army?" Mary Alice asked.

"Not quite but yes is an easier answer," Michelle said flatly.

Frank looked at his daughter with a raised eyebrow.

Michelle thought a minute, how to explain, "Old Ranger mission needed to be cleaned up."

Frank shook his head in understanding. He had been an Army Ranger in a previous life.

Looking at her father Michelle asked, "What about Grandma Mazur?"

Frank smiled, "She sold Big Blue for an obscene amount of money to a car collector in south Florida. Add in her social security and savings, she's going with us to Florida."

"You and Grandma Mazur are going to be in the same house?" Michelle gasped.

"Once I changed and really looked around, I saw Edna was funny, not a pain as Helen complained. I only hope to have her energy and outlook on life when I'm her age. She's excited about Florida. No doubt she's thinking of all the widowers down there."

"She'll have a lot of competition," Michelle laughed.

 **00000000**

By May's end Rangeman had purchased Vincent Plum bail bond and Hal became the manager. Michelle was offered the position of office manager, but she laughed. "No Way! What's wrong with Connie?" As a Rangeman employee Connie Rizolli would have to qualify with handguns and physical fitness. She passed the weapons part, she was from the Mob family, but the physical fitness took a few weeks. With Lula gone the bonds division had two highly efficient apprehension teams; Junior and Jamie, a new hire and on an as needed basis, Michelle and her partner Charlie the former Army MP.

For some reason those out of bail were skipping their court appointments forcing Hal to bring in Team Two Michelle and Charlie to pick up the slack. "You must have been quite a bond agent," Charlie commented while they drove to their next apprehension.

Michelle didn't laugh much but this nearly brought her to tears, "Oh yeah, that's why the called me the Bombshell Bounty Hunter. I love the other Rangeman employees for not telling you tales of my misadventures. I was indirectly responsible for burning down a funeral home….

"Indirectly?"

"Actually it was my grandmother and her .44 hitting an explosive stored illegally in the funeral home's basement. I was blamed opposed to an elderly grandmother."

"Anything else I should know?"

"My first case was to bring in a TPD detective Morelli who skipped on murder charge. I got him, proved him innocent, got shot in the ass and then killed Benito Ramierez, the boxer's agent who was trying to kill me."

Charlie just stared at her. "That was your first case?"

Good thing she was driving. "Yep, I've been shot twice, knifed, buried alive, dropped off the Delaware River bridge, kidnapped, jumped out of too many second and third story windows to remember, had my apartment fire-bombed, rocketed, had man blow himself up in my front hall, found a dead man sawn in half on my couch, Ranger get shot in the apartment, had a few missing body parts tucked into my refrigerator…"

"Whoa, whoa," Charlie held up both hands. "All that?"

"I haven't gotten to destroyed numerous cars, some my own, some belonging to Rangeman. The best one was the garbage truck rolling over onto Ranger's 911."

"Porsche?" He asked.

"Yeah, that was a classic but others met similar deaths."

"Others?"

"Mercedes, another Porsche, Jeeps, RAV 4, the list is long and that's just the Rangeman cars. I regularly had my own POSs blown up."

"One explosion is unusual, but multiple? Why?"

"I suspect leaky fuel lines, but a few were due to RPGs or other explosives."

"People actually targeted your car?"

"And me. I wasn't a good bond apprehension agent. It took me several attempts and once they knew I was after them they preferred to eliminate me. But in all fairness, some were accidents like the RPG outside the comic book store."

"You didn't accidently shoot your own car, did you?"

She shook her head, "No, that was gang war and my car was caught in the middle."

"Bad bond agents usually end up broke, or worse."

"I was broke most of the time. If it wasn't for Ranger giving me a job on backgrounds and searches, I would have been living on the street. Why I was bad? Because I was too stupid to admit I didn't know what I was doing and too brainwashed by my mother who kept telling me it wasn't a job for ladies. There was also having Ranger Manoso come and save me," she said as the turned her head and winked.

She then sighed, "But that is all in the past. I still enjoy the hunt and chase, but I promised myself and my grandfather Mazur I would do better. I like client relations, it's like doing the hunt without rolling in garbage."

"And the military?"

"Charlie, at Christmas I was literally at the end of my rope, the next stop was a homeless shelter or mental ward. I needed discipline and training. I needed to let go of my old self and let someone pound me into something better. The military was the only way I could see it happening. I never expected Tank to drop everything and start training me, then the others helped out."

"Are you happy?"

"I'm at peace with myself. I am no longer afraid, cautious yes but I use my brain not my emotions plus my training to get through."

"And Ranger?"

"That is a very dark hole in my life. He was my mentor. He was amused when I asked him to teach me how to be a bond recovery agent; Eliza Doolittle & Henry Higgins. I was a terrible student and he kept rescuing me. A more emotional relationship developed but due to his work for the government, he couldn't commit the way I wanted. I didn't understand why. Plus my mother kept pushing one Burg man after another in my face after my first marriage lasted about 30 seconds. I agreed to marry Morelli so Ranger left town. Christmas Day it all came crashing down, my life ended. Tank picked up the pieces."

"Morelli, the initial FTA case?"

"Yeah, he and I had history going back to childhood. Bad history but I glossed over the bad because he was handsome, had a fine ass, swagger, and he was Burg Italian so met my mother's criteria."

Michelle was driving and watching the people, "There's Silas Murphy, don't we have something on him?"

Charlie checked the files, "Yeah we do, nice bit of change. The file doesn't have much background, we are scheduled to work it this afternoon, but since he's out in the open, we might as well take him."

Michelle watched Silas turn into a bar, "Ugh, he's going into the Marigold."

"Bad?" Charlie asked.

"Bad. Going in all macho would cause problems. We could wait him out or run a distraction."

"A distraction?"

"I go in and smooze him and bring him out back, if all goes well. We need backup in case it doesn't go well. We've never done a distraction before with less than six men."

Charlie called for assistance. Junior and Jamie plus two patrols from Rangeman security arrived within 7 minutes.

"You going in dressed like that?" Charlie asked looking at the black Rangeman uniform.

"I'm not taking my vest off for the Marigold." Michelle pulled out what was once a bright pink nylon shell jacket 3 sizes too large that appeared to have been run over by winter traffic from her to-go bag and put the jacket over her vest. The boonie hat was old and greasy but covered her head and partially hid her face. When the back-up teams reported front and back, she reached down to the gutter, grabbed mud and smeared her face; her jacket and hat didn't need additional grime. Hunching over like a bag lady she dragged her to-go back behind her and went into the bar. The bartender and customers tried to ignore her. She counted out change for a beer but came up short. Looking around, she went up to Silas and said, "You got 27 cents?"

He looked down and then away. In an instant Michelle had him down and cuffed. "Bond Enforcement," she yelled which brought in Charlie and two other Rangeman through the front door and four others through the back; seven mammoth Rangeman. The bartender and patrons froze.

"Hold it guys, I just want Silas. Go back to your drinks." Michelle said calmly then backed Silas out the front door, patted him down and put him in the Rangeman vehicle, shackling his feet to the bolts on the floor.

"That was cool and efficient, but now you have a muddy face." At that moment several of Silas' friends came barreling out of the bar. Charlie and Michelle turned and like a primo tag team put the bar-brawlers down. Charlie and two other Rangeman threw them back into the bar, "We only want Silas."

Taking a cloth she wiped the mud from her face and blood off her knuckles. Removing the hat and jacket she fluffed her short hair, "Gotta look good for TPD, I used to come in smothered in garbage."

Charlie and Michelle perp-walked Silas into TPD and secured him to the bench and bolts. By now TPD knew the new Rangewoman was the old Stephanie Plum who changed her name reflecting her new found abilities. Her usual partner was a former Army MP which somewhat earned him a few kudos from the police force. Many wondered why he hadn't become a TP.

After collecting their receipt, Charlie and Michelle were heading out the door when Patrol Officer Joe Morelli started up the ramp.

"Is this your new fuck buddy?" he sneered. "I'm surprised you aren't fucking women looking the way you do."

Michelle briefly considered dropping Morelli, but knew that back ramp was well monitored. Maybe that's what Morelli wanted, egging her on to where he could press assault charges. Instead she walked away not acknowledging the insults.

"I take that wasn't a fan of yours," Charlie chuckled.

"I considered introducing the two of you, but I didn't trust my control. That was my former fiancé and giant Trenton Ass, Joseph Morelli. He used to be a detective but his mouth and prick keep getting him in trouble."

"A real gentleman," Charlie mumbled.

"Not even close."

They continued on their patrol, rounding up two more FTA before Charlie said, "Mitch, I have to leave a little early today, my daughter's preschool is having an end of year pageant."

Michelle turned her head quickly, "Daughter? You never mentioned a family."

"I would have gotten around to it. I married my high school sweet heart. We have a little girl named Dora."

"That's why you don't live a Rangeman."

He chuckled, "Don't think Tank would approve of a 5 year old riding up and down the halls on her bicycle. Plus we have a dog."

"Yep, not pet policy," she laughed. "I hope to meet your family someday." Michelle never thought of Charlie in anyway other than a work partner. He never gave off available vibes and neither did she. Michelle remained celibate.

 **00000000**

Michelle was cruising through a stack of background checks and searches when Lester approached, "Mitch, you and I need to make a preliminary visit to a new manufacturing company north of Lawrenceville. They want to upgrade their security."

"Which company?" she looked up some what distracted.

"Paragon Industries," Lester read from his sheet.

Michelle raised her eyebrows, "Les, that a big company."

"Yeah, we need to dress for this potential new client, suits. Appointment is for 14:00."

"You and me Les? Why not Tank?"

"He and Manny are doing a follow up on the Jefferson account and the two boutiques you signed up last week. Mitch, we are going to have to hire new employees to keep up with your new contracts." Lester wanted to hug her or squeeze her shoulder, but everybody was afraid Michelle would be offended or uncomfortable what is sexual harassment in the news.

"Lester," she said with a smile, "I miss your hugs too. In time I'll be more open but right now Hector is my hug buddy. You could hug him for me."

Lester shook his head, "Smart ass."

For a moment they both flashed in their minds, "smart ass" was what Ranger called Lester. Looking into each other's eyes they saw hurt. They both missed Ranger, but Michelle wasn't certain he was still alive and refused to ask. Believing he was alive elsewhere was far better than him being dead.

At 12:45 Michelle appeared on the 5th floor in her lady professional suit; black pencil skirt, ivory camisole and black jacket, a bit longer than a bolero jacket to hide her weapon on her back. She no longer feared carrying a weapon, but hated the way it dug into her back on long car rides. Her shoes were heels but study enough to run in if necessary. She never understood how Lula could run on spike thin heels, but then she never ran far.

Lester was in his dark grey suit, light grey pattern shirt and dark grey tie. This was his "summer" suit opposed to the usual black suits worn for the other nine months.

"Mitch you have the background on Paragon?"

"Yes sir."

Exiting the Rangeman Audie A8 at Paragon Industries Lester and Michelle were the consummate executives. The facilities manager explained the layout, their current security and what they were looking for.

Both Les and Michelle listened; she took notes and asked the questions. The manager wasn't surprised the woman was taking the lead. The reason became apparent when the CEO entered the office, a woman named Camille Lujan. Michelle's questions were spot on and soon the two Rangeman were given the tour of the facility. When the tour ended Lester and Michelle had preliminary suggestions on upgrading and the manager asked for a bid.

Leaving Paragon, Lester smiled. "Tank was right on putting you in client relations. You astound the big dogs as well as the little. I felt like eye candy for the CEO while you were conducting business."

Michelle laughed, "Time you guys get the treatment we've had to put up with since…time began." Michelle smirked, "Apparently you didn't see the facilities manager ogling my legs."

Les laughed, "That's why we want you wearing long pants in the office. You are very distracting. God help us if you still had your Stephanie hair."

She groaned, "Life is so much easier without detangler, conditioner and frizz days."

Two weeks later Paragon Industries signed a contract with Rangeman and Les, Tank and Bobby were figuring out a way to expand Rangeman's operations further northwest than before. "She keeps this up we are going to have to make her a partner," Tank shook his head.

 **Miami Rangeman**

Ranger was looking over the third quarter reports from the four Rangeman offices. All we doing well, but the Trenton office was above and beyond. Beginning about April 1st, Tank reorganized the company and brought in several new hires. Purchasing Plum Bond Agency was Ranger's idea for supplying Stephanie with a job but also to take in more high bonds that usually went to Lee Sebring. Lee was making retirement noise and Ranger didn't want some new hot shot to come in and grab the big money. When Stephanie accepted Joe's ring and Ranger left town, he pretty much forgot about Plum Bail Bonds, but apparently Tank didn't.

Among the changes was Trenton had planned to send two of their employees to private investigator courses, but first, the apprentice program was several years in length and second, the two individuals, Mitch and Charlie, had the skills between them; business, accounting, surveillance and knowledge of law and former military police. Rangeman wouldn't be adding a PI shingle to their services, but the team was available and had already proven useful in solving crimes against Rangeman clients which in turn brought in more clients.

Ranger sat back and smiled, he was proud of Tank and Lester for leading Rangeman in such an economically depressed part of the country. By expanding their services, hiring quality employees, and setting up satellite work centers, they kept their response time down even though they had expanded beyond Trenton. The three other regional Rangeman offices were looking at Trenton's model to improve their companies.

He wanted to visit Trenton, it had been a year since he left. But the memories were too painful; just the other day he thought he saw Big Blue in Little Havana, a 1953 Buick white over blue. Fortunately it was a middle age Latino driving the car, not Babe.

He had kept himself from prying on her electronically. She made her choice, though he suspects she was coerced by her mother and the Berg. Ranger knew she loved him more than Morelli, but he couldn't take a chance Guzman would learn about her. Now Guzman was gone, she was gone and safe to raise a family. On the positive side, he and Julie had grown closer. She was great encouragement for him in rehab, but his heart still yearned for Babe. He had no interest in finding someone new.

His thoughts were interrupted by Marco, head of Rangeman Miami. "The Deacon and I are finalizing plans for Rangemaninja in Atlanta. Are you going to participate?"

"Not for overall, I'm not fully recovered, but yeah there will be some events I can do."

In the fall Rangeman offices sent representatives to Atlanta for two days day of competition. The "fun" games were a way to keep the employees in top form physically and mentally and build camaraderie between the offices.

This was the first year Ranger Manoso would not be heading up the Trenton team. After 10 months he had not quite recovered sufficiently to participate in all the sports. The greatest loss was he would not be participating in Mt. Manoso, the most difficult of all the trials and named in his honor as he won the event since its inception.

Each office could send up to fifteen employees providing the home offices were not compromised. Atlanta, Boston and Miami had women employees and had their own side competition. When word reached Atlanta that Mitch's nickname was The Bitch, Atlanta's CEO, The Deacon called to ask Tank if Mitch fit the gender classification.

"Completely," Tank chuckled.

"What's her experience; military or police?" the Atlanta boss wanted to know.

"She's a civilian, no military or police experience, just bail bonds agent," Tank replied.

"Yet she's qualified for Rangeman duty?" The Deacon was surprised.

"She is."

Do you think she'd like to compete?

Tank was about to say, hell yes, but he flashed on Ranger being there. Was it time for those two to meet back up? Now or never he decided, "Her decision, I'm not going to force her."

The early morning gym chatter was about the upcoming Rangemaninja. "You going to represent Trenton, Mitch?"

She laughed, "I'm hardly an athlete."

"Baloney," Ram spit out. "Not only could you easily do the challenge course, you are a heck of a shot and swimmer."

"Pat yourself on your back Ram," she smiled. "You keep me on the edge."

"There's also hand to hand competition, strongman, and a Ninja course, super challenge course." he hesitated and looked at Lester.

Lester looked unsure as well. What would Mitch say when she learned about Mt. Manoso?

"You mean like American Ninja on TV?" she asked.

Both men relaxed, "Yes, Atlanta builds the course each year. It's not as flashy as the one used on television but just as tough.

"Is there a Mount Midori Yama?"

"Yes, a rope climb, 75 feet. While the TV ninjas can do it in under 30 seconds, we mortals take a bit longer. I hope to win it this year but I've got to up my training."

"Spiderman needs more training? Yikes," she said. "I'll pass on that one."

Lester and Ram exhaled as did several other Rangeman also listening to the conversation. Mt. Manoso would remain anonymous for a while longer.

Turning back to Ram, "So what do you think I could do?"

 **0000000**

"Do you think it is a good idea she go to Atlanta, Tank? Ranger is likely to be there," Bobby asked. "There's no way they won't run into each other."

Tank sighed, "It's been a year. Hopefully both are stronger emotionally to deal with their relationship."

"If the whole thing blows up, then she is likely to leave us," Bobby said. "She's an important member of the team now."

"She's always had the option of leaving, but more and more she seems happy here. She's dynamite in client relations, she and Charlie make a good investigation team, and she still does bond apprehension to keep sharp. If she and Ranger detonate, then hopefully she will come back here and he'll stay in Miami."

"And if they click?" Bobby asked.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, there's a lot of _IF's_ first.

 **My eyes are crossed tonight. I'll post this and correct tomorrow when I can see again. Eleni**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **Sorry for the delay, my back is telling me I spend too much time here already. Also dueling browser problems, shhhesh.**

 **Michelle** lay on her bed before going to sleep. She assessed the day as she has done since Tank began training her. Every day he asks for yesterday's assessment plus adds his own observations. While embarrassing, she realizes it is yet another way he impressed upon her learning continues every day.

"Sir," she still used the formal reply to keep herself from becoming too emotionally attached to him. Since Dickie Orr, Stephanie Plum was without a boyfriend for several years. It wasn't until she met Joe Morelli, the FTA, again at nearly the same time Carlos Manoso that she became so entwined with men. Her life became too complicated. Yes, her mother was responsible for part of this, "It is time you find yourself a man and get married like a proper Burg woman."

Since New Year's she and Tank had developed great respect and admiration for one another but neither wanted it to cross the barrier into something more. At least she didn't. She was enjoying finding the strong person inside of her.

"Sir, do you assess yourself daily?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm mortal. If I don't continually critique myself, I'll become stagnant. We need to push ourselves to be better; physically, mentally, socially, and spiritually," he said with surprising humility.

"Sir, is there some area you are slipping, if I may so bold as to ask?"

Ah, good time for a Michelle test to see how she reacts, Tank thought. "Since Ranger left, I haven't had a decent work out on the mats," he chuckled. "I keep up the others' training but nobody has yet given me a real workout." He watched her carefully. She didn't react at mention of Ranger's name. Was she finally mending?

Michelle didn't flinch, she surprised herself. "Sir, I doubt I'll ever reach Ranger's level of giving beat downs. Sorry I can't help." She could say his name out loud!

Tank smiled, "Mitch, don't underestimate yourself. Your reputation with groins shots keeps us guys off guard. As a result, you sneak in some mighty fine hand combinations from time to time."

As she ended her day doing her mental review; did she do her best? What could she have done better? After making mental notes she thought of the Rangemaninja event coming up in November. She was never one for competition, nobody in her family acknowledged her efforts, so why bother? But Michelle did care. She wanted to improve and daily was in competition with herself. She had come a long way since last Christmas Day, plus she truly enjoyed terrain training with Lester. Yes, she'd go to Atlanta.

Suddenly Ranger popped into her mind. If he was dead, would the games be a tribute to him? Could she stand that? What if he wasn't dead, he might be there. The old Stephanie buried deep began creeping to the surface….tears threatened, no she couldn't go to Atlanta.

"Hey pussy," Mitch the Bitch crashed forward. "Are you going to throw away seven months of hard work, self-improvement in body and mind and your whole new life because Ranger's name will be mentioned? What would Tank say or do to you? What would the others say? Their looks of admiration grow larger each day. You are now an important part of Rangeman. Are you going to fall back into weak, pathetic Stephanie over a man? You are not Ranger's shack up or Joe's "train wreck. Snap out of it."

Michelle liked her new persona. She was as close to Wonder Woman as she'd ever get. She was now better, faster, stronger just like the Bionic Woman television show introduction said. Her free time was spent with various Rangeman in rock wall climbing, sky diving, parasailing off Point Pleasant and just a few weeks ago, tandem hang gliding in Bloomfield northwest of Newark. She even took a bungee plunge. She'd go to Atlanta and deal with whatever comes her way.

For all her recovered self-composure, tonight she was hesitant for the next item on her nighttime agenda; her talk with Ranger. She felt a bit of separation from him. Usually at night she'd tell him he was always in her heart and there was nobody but him. "Ranger, for the first time in many months I'm confused. I've assumed you are gone from us, but now I'm not so sure. You may be alive but have moved on with someone else. I can't talk with Tank about this or even Bobby and Lester. I let you go, the onus is on me. Rest assured I will deal with this as the mature person I'm becoming."

 **00000000**

"Mr. Raul Castillo?"

 _"Si."_

"My name is Edna Mazur from Trenton, New Jersey. You purchased the Buick from me."

" _Si,_ Mrs. Mazur I remember. What a wonderful car."

"Mr. Castillo my son-in-law, my 2 great granddaughters and I have moved to Melbourne. My great granddaughters speak fondly of Big Blue and I was hoping they could have one last ride. I understand if you say no, it is your car now."

"Mrs. Mazur, I live in Little Havana part of Miami. If you are ever down here, please let me know. I would be honored to show you my city from, what did you call the auto…Big Blue?"

"Mr. Castillo, my son in law wants to show the girls the Everglades before school resumes."

"School begins in early August Mrs. Mazur. Are you coming down soon?"

"We'll be in Miami in two weeks, it that too soon?" Edna said.

"I'm always available to show Big Blue to his admirers. Let me know the exact date," he chuckled.

 **00000000**

"Dad," Julie asked as they sat in the Porsche Panamera waiting for the light. "Do you miss Trenton?"

Ranger sat for a moment, "Not the town, but the Rangeman people. Ella's cooking is only surpassed by your grandmother's," he smiled. His attention was drawn to the parade of vintage cars cruising through Little Havana. Unlike Cuba's Havana where the cars are held together by prayers, here the selections are polished, chromed and as close to mint condition as possible.

"Why don't you go visit them?" Julie asked breaking Ranger's concentration on the cars passing in front.

How could he tell Julie about heartbreak? Would she understand just being in Trenton knowing she was there with Morelli would be unbearable?

Suddenly Julie got excited, "Look Dad, its Stephanie's car!"

Ranger was knocked back to reality; it was indeed a 1953 Buick Roadmaster probably the same one he saw earlier. He did a double take; sitting in the front passenger seat was…Edna Mazur? No, it had to be another older white woman with tightly curled air. Ranger turned right and began the follow the classic cars, in particular the blue Buick. He held back when the car pulled into the Marriott motel. Pulling to the curb near the front drive he watched as the passengers in the car got out. Unbelievably he immediately spotted Frank Mazur, the two granddaughters whose names he couldn't remember and Edna. Frank shook the driver's hand, clapped him on the shoulder and then turned and patted the car before taking the hands of his granddaughters and leading the women into the hotel. The driver then pulled away from the hotel. Ranger sat, dumbfounded.

"Dad, was that Stephanie's car?" Julie asked.

"If it wasn't her grandmother's car, it was one just like it." Ranger pulled back into traffic and vowed he would investigate further.

Later that night Ranger sat with his computer and traced Big Blue from Trenton to Miami to a Mr. Raul Castillo sold by Mrs. Edna Mazur. His curiosity got the better of him and he called Mr. Raul Castillo.

In the rapid fire Cubano Spanish Ranger introduced himself, explained he saw the car that day and how he remembered one just like it in Trenton belonging to an older lady.

" _Si, Senor Manoso_ , it is the same car. I purchased it two months ago from Edna Mazur. She just recently moved to Melbourne with her son-in-law and 2 great grandchildren and wanted to visit the car. It was my pleasure to show them Little Miami in her former car."

Ranger didn't ask more questions though he had many, none Mr. Castillo could answer. "Thank you sir, it was indeed a pleasure to see that classic car once again. I hope you have many happy miles in it." Ranger hung up before Mr. Castillo became too interested in how the car was traced to him.

Ranger put down the phone, Frank, his granddaughters and Edna in Florida? Who else? Where were Helen and Valerie? It was disconcerting watching Frank hold his granddaughters' hands, he never exhibited any paternal interest before. He should call Tank and ask what happened, but hesitated. He'd send a text; the coward's way to communicate.

Tank's response came quickly: Divorces: Frank, 2GD + Edna in FL.

Ranger stared at the answer. Frank and Helen as well as Valerie and Albert divorced? What precipitated it? What about Stephanie and Joe, how did this affect her? He just started a search for Stephanie Morelli in Trenton when his phone rang. It was Marco, Ranger needed to answer. He checked back to his search after talking with Marco only to discover there was no Stephanie Morelli in Trenton. Perhaps they moved, he'd further the search another day, but didn't.

00000000

Early November in Atlanta is the end of the comfortable season before winter's chill threatens. For the Rangemaninja, cooler weather is preferred. The challenge course and gun ranges were built in private property owned by Rangeman and remained on site throughout the year. The Ninja course was designed and built by former Army Engineers now Rangeman employees from Miami and Atlanta. Built of metal, it was disassembled and reassembled each year for the event. The exception was the 75' rope climb. The metal frame structure remained all year but with the rope removed until the next year's event. Swimming events were held an indoor pool rented for 24 hours. The other events; strong man and hand to hand were held at Rangeman Atlanta's own gym.

Each participant was required to participate in at least one weapons event; individual handgun, rifle/sniper, three gun, or a two man team objective course. The hand to hand combat event was encouraged for all. This was the first year it was open to women but only one applied, not Michelle.

Of the optional events: swimming, strongman, challenge course and Ninja course, by far the challenge course was the most popular. Those who had gone through basic training and especially Special Forces training were already familiar with many of the challenges. At Rangemaninja, the course was also timed.

Swimming events were fairly new, instituted by those who had served as SEALS. Many Rangemen stayed in shape with regular swimming so the event was also popular.

Strongman was a combination of weight lifting and weight carrying. All four offices had several employees who excelled in weights; Tank and Hal were but two examples at Trenton.

The Ninja course was a separate competition; a step above all the other events. Participants had ten extremely difficult obstacles. Several obstacles were so difficult and dangerous, participants were required to wear safety harnesses; otherwise a failure resulted in a fall into a safety net below or water. Those who successfully completed all ten were allowed to attempt to conquer Mt. Manoso, the timed 75' rope climb.

Awards were made for the best team showing but also best individual showing. A special award was given for the overall woman showing. The Ninja competition was separate.

Michelle arrived with the rest of the Trenton team. Charlie had come with his wife and daughter as his wife was from Georgia and wanted to visit her family. He and Michelle would be paired in the team weapons event. Charlie was also signed up for single weapon handgun, hand to hand, and the challenge course.

Michelle would do single weapon handgun, three weapon, challenge course and at Ram's insistence, swimming.

The Trenton Rangeman men competing in the Ninja course were Lester, Gino, and Manny. Bobby usually competed but someone had to remain in Trenton running the business.

 **0000000**

Michelle entered the hotel lobby early on swim competition day; her fellow swimmers would be along in a few minutes. As the turned a corner she nearly ran into a giant man greatly resembling Dwayne Johnson, The Rock, but even taller.

"Are you Mitch the Bitch?" the giant from Atlanta said. "I'm The Deacon, welcome to Atlanta."

Michelle looked at the giant 6'7" man only slightly less massive than Tank, "If you want to be a polite southern gentleman you can call me Michelle. However, I hope to add stripes to Mitch the Bitch at this competition."

He chuckled, "So you are the bonds agent who never had military training."

"Nope, none thought about it but by the time I was serious, others convinced me I was too old."

"Married?"

"Divorced and then ….well, a misfire or two. No current BFs. I have plenty of men to admire at Rangeman without jumping into the pool. I was emotionally wounded in my last plunge. The guys understand and standoff."

"How long have you been with Rangeman?"

Oh boy, how to answer? "Not long, about seven months."

"So you came after Ranger?"

How was she to answer without letting him know she knew Ranger? "He was gone. Tank and Lester run the organization. I hear a lot about Ranger and how Rangeman is run by his former Army buddies. Did you serve with him?" Deflect inquiries about yourself back on the other person.

"He was an ROTC wonder kid, Officer's Candidate School, came out a 2nd Lieutenant. He was in charge of our platoon. Most seconds are a bit wet behind the ears, not Manoso. He was in charge from the get go and we soon learned to appreciate his leadership."

"Who else was in the platoon?"

"Marco in Miami, Patrick in Boston and Tank, we were the "over-sized ones." Most Special Forces are lower to the ground, less visible targets. The smallest guy was Ric. When we got to company size we picked up Bobby, Lester, and Hal. Ric wasn't real thrilled to see his cousin there. We all kinda bonded, served together or supporting one another. Ric, left first, then Tank, Bobby and Lester a few months later. We kicked around the idea of security work after the Army so Ric was doing bail bonds to raise money for the new business. They started the original business in Trenton and by the time Marco, Patrick, and I mustered out it was time to work on Rangeman expansion."

"So Ric, err, Ranger was always in Trenton?"

"He wanted to move down to Miami to set up the office there, but he met a woman. He was so mad at himself because we knew, due to some previous issues, we were not marriage material."

"Why?" She was thinking about her dreams with her grandfather. Were they true?

"A mission we were on went bad and the…enemy swore vengeance on us. Partially the reason we formed Rangeman, protection for ourselves. We could watch for the guy. He had power and money and would send out assassins. He picked off some of us…"

"Government couldn't help?" she jumped in not really wanting to hear about assassinations.

"No. It was that damn screwy the "enemy of my enemy is my friend." The bastard played the US government so they wouldn't put sanction a hit on him. Manoso was the highest ranking of the survivors and had already survived several attempts on his life. Any woman he developed feelings for automatically became a target. He'd come down here and we'd sit with a bottle of scotch and he'd get plastered and tell me about her, how much he loved her and how he'd have to leave her just to keep her alive. He tried to keep her at arm's length resorting to being as ass from time to time. It killed him to do it. Apparently she had another boyfriend, a cop, who Ranger disliked but thought a safer choice. She took the other guy's ring and Ranger left, heart-broken but knowing it was the correct choice."

Michelle noted he never mentioned government missions. Did he do that on purpose, did he know about them, or did he feel they were superfluous to the story? In some small way old Stephanie blamed the missions on keeping her and Ranger from committing, but once again she learned it was safety, her safety.

Michelle was going to ask more questions, but Marco from Miami came over and needed to talk with The Deacon. Michelle excused herself and continued to the lobby to wait for the others. She needed to sit down, if she was the old Stephanie she'd be in tears. But the new Michelle kicked in. "He knew he'd have to leave, leave to protect me. He wanted to leave early on, but stayed…stayed for me. Now I understand….it's what's grandpa Mazur showed me. He loved me so much he had to leave."

Ram entered the lobby with the others on the Trenton swim team. "Are you ready to kick Flipper, Mitch?"

During the previous day's practice session she met the five other Rangewomen who would compete in the water events. "Where'd you swim, Mitch?" one asked.

"Excuse me?"

"What school?"

Michelle laughed, "I was not an athlete in school, far from it. My swimming was limited to the Atlantic during the summer, never competition. I hope not to drown, last place will be fine."

Tank came over the Michelle as she was preparing for her race. "I've seen you swim this in Trenton without problems. Your times are better than those they've done before and they consider you a patsy civilian. It's time to earn your first Bitch stripe."

Ram said basically the same thing to her building her confidence for the long 5 km swim. "Think of it as a day at the beach, swimming in the ocean. Relax and enjoy yourself, just keep your focus."

"What time am I shooting for?" she asked.

"Try finishing in less than 2 hours, you've done it before; don't let the competition get to your head." What he didn't say was one of the lady swimmers was a college star and alternate in the Olympics.

Initially the guys in this heat went out faster than she, but she kept with her pace and soon found herself passing several guys. She had only one other woman in this heat and had to strain to look across the pool to watch her. After a while she quit trying and just swam her race. When she touched she knew she wasn't the first, but there were more behind her than in front. The woman had beaten her. Mitch was fine, she was better than several men in her heat; that was enough.

Ram was beside her when she emerged, "Mitch, great swim! You were way under two hours, 114 minutes. That's your personal best." That placed her second among the women, the woman who beat her, the Olympic alternate, did so by less than a minute. Michelle was thrilled.

Later that day she had the handgun competition. Maybe she was too tired from the swim to be nervous? She surprised herself with an excellent run. She didn't stay around until the end; she needed to get to the three gun event. If she had stayed she would have seen Ranger was the last shooter in the competition and scored the highest.

Last spring Ram had been trying to fit weapons to her size and strength. She became so enthralled with the 3 different weapons; handgun, rifle, and shotgun she was going back and forth with them and hitting the targets. Who knew the old Bombshell Bounty Hunter was a crack shot?

The competition required she carry all three weapons, work her way through a course of varying targets using all three weapons. No other women signed up for this event so she was the oddity. Ram checked over her weapons as she prepared for the event.

"Mitch just enjoy yourself….and don't shoot your foot."

It was a joke between them and she laughed which helped her relax. Through the timed course she had to switch between the three weapons quickly. Her handgun was strapped to her leg, the rifle slung across her back and the shotgun in her hands. A judge ran along behind her keeping her safe and scoring. When she exited the course she had a huge smile. After safeing her weapons, she threw her arms around Ram, "Thank you for introducing this to me. Can you imagine the BBB running through the Burg armed like this? she laughed." Later she realized it was the first overt physical contact she had since joining Rangeman. Whoa.

When the days events were posted, The Deacon turned to Ranger, "Mitch from Trenton is quite the shot. She was best woman in handguns and now she gave Ram a run for his money."

"She?" Ranger asked. "Mitch is a she?"

"Yeah, Michelle but prefers Mitch. Muscular, short brown hair, guess she was hired after you left," The Deacon said.

Ranger thought of the financial report from Tank and how Mitch and Charlie were working investigations. Mitch and Charlie, he wondered if Charlie was Charlene. He decided to investigate when he noted Mitch and Charlie would be a team in the partner shooting event in the morning. Using paintball rifles the 2 man team worked their way through the course, entering buildings, shooting targets and avoiding getting hit by "snipers" using paintball rifles.

Michelle felt the course was very familiar yet it was totally unlike the one used at Trenton. Was this course the one from her grandfather's visits? She was moving between two buildings hugging one wall when in her head she clearly heard grandfather Mazur yell, "Down Curls!" She fell to the ground, rolled and shot the "sniper" from Boston. She and Charlie had the third best time but came away completely clean of paint ball hits.

Ranger was watching from a distance and marveled how she knew to drop avoiding the sniper. That woman was good! She was indeed muscular but her protection gear covered up her face. As she and her tall partner left the course, a little girl appeared. Mitch scooped her up, kissed her and handed her to Charlie. Ah, they were a couple and that was their daughter. Ranger turned and walked away.

The challenge course was Mitch's last competition. Lester stopped by to give her a pep talk, "Just go have fun. Think of our terrain training, wear a smile and fly."

The course began with monkey bars. This was a favorite from grade school, though here they were thirty bars, not just ten. She zipped through them and ran the half mile to the wall climb, a 15 foot vertical wall with a rope hanging down the face. Her mind flashed on the icy rock face Tank made her repel down months ago, this was easier and less bruising. After another half mile run, the next obstacle was a series of boxes of various heights. The contestant would have to stop, jump up on the box before jumping onto the next box. The tallest box, 24 inches, nearly tripped her. "Slow down Mitch," she said to herself, "The fun part is coming up." Running a mile through the woods over varying terrain, she had to clear wall hurdles often four feet high, no problem. The crawl under the obstacles was easy; at least there wasn't live fire overhead. A new addition to the challenge course was the kettlebells set in the road that had to be picked up and carried 50'. She kept her mind on the flying parts next and pushed through the 80 pound lift.

To get to the aerials, first was the cargo net climb. Lester had showed her how to center her gravity to remain vertical. The rope steps were no more difficult than a ladder. Once up to a platform she had to grab hold of a rope with her hands and legs and scoot across a water hazard. Falling into the water required crawling back up the cargo net and back onto the rope crawl. She had trained herself to think of this as a lazy man's rope climb as the technique was the same, except horizontal. Once complete she paused at the next platform to gather her breath and dry her sweaty hands. She didn't think she was 15 feet up in the air; she concentrated on the tightrope walk. Her only safety was another rope suspended above her head. If she slipped and missed the safety grab she'd be down in the water below. A lifeguard stood by, just in case. She traversed with ease as if her family name was Wallenda, not Plum. Coming off the platform was another rope ladder. This time it was easier to only climb down partially and then swing out and drop. When she landed, her neck tingled. "Sweat" she dismissed and ran to the parallel logs set on a steep angle. Once up the logs to higher ground, she had to run downhill picking up speed and grab a suspended rope and swing across another water hazard, let loose and land on dry land and run to the finish. Landing in the water would severely slow down her time. As she started down the hill to the rope, this was absolutely her favorite part of the course, her time to fly. Just like her dream with grandpa Mazur, she would fly free. The smile on her face was a mile wide and her blue eyes shown with excitement and anticipation.

Ranger was standing off to the side with Julie. She too loved this event, especially the swing over the water. The contestant coming down the hill wasn't huffing, instead she had a huge smile. Then he saw the eyes. The smile and eyes did it, it was Stephanie!

She caught the rope perfectly arching over the water, let loose and precisely the right time and landing on dry land and rolling to reduce the impact. "Good flight Super Woman" she heard someone call. She quickly got up and hopped for joy doing a little jig, wanting to return and swing on the rope again. Instead she turned and finished the course.

Tank, The Deacon, and Charlie were at the finish line laughing and applauding. Charlie handed her a space blanket and a water bottle. Michelle was still smiling as she rubbed the cold water bottle over her face and neck, "Who called to me?"

The three men had no answer. "Not us, what did they say?"

"Nice flight Super Woman "

The three laughed. "That was the best release I've ever seen," said The Deacon. "You easily cleared the water. Are you sure you didn't go through Ranger school?" The Deacon glanced for confirmation, but Tank was staring at something in the distance. Michelle unscrewed the water bottle and sipped but her neck was tingling again. She reached back to rub it as she noticed Tank looking at something. She turned and about fifty feet away stood Ranger and Julie.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **Last we left Mitch and Ranger, they were staring at each other on the Rangemaninja course in Atlanta.**

" **Is** that Stephanie?" Julie whispered.

Ranger didn't say anything, he just stared. Why was she here? Did she not marry Joe and married Charlie from Rangeman instead? Is that why there was no Stephanie Morelli in his search? Was her marrying Charlie the "bomb" that set off two divorces in Trenton?

At that moment another woman and the same little girl came out from the crowd. Both went to Michelle, the little girl slapping her leg trying to get her attention. Michelle broke eye contact with Ranger and looked down. Picking the little girl up she kissed her and handed her to another woman who went over to Charlie and wrapped her arm around Charlie's waist. The little girl moved into her father's arms.

Somewhere in Ranger's mind it registered that strange woman belonged to Charlie, not Stephanie. Who was Mitch? Time passed, nobody moved, suddenly Julie broke free and ran forward, "Stephanie?"

 **00000000**

Michelle was going to answer The Deacon's comment about Ranger training when she glanced at Tank. He stared intently. "What's he looking at?" Michelle asked herself. She drank from the bottle and turned to look. Back in the woods stood a man and teenage girl. There was no mistaking Carlos Manoso, same coloring, same body form. The girl was a like-image, it must be Julie. They came to watch the events.

Michelle then noticed the cane in Ranger's left hand. He was injured. Was this from a mission? She remembered the mission from her dreams, was it real? How did she feel seeing him standing there? Her heart was thumping loudly, the Stephanie was embarrassed, overwhelmed, fearful and yet excited. Michelle realized reality was at hand. One year without him, one year to decide if she wanted a relationship now that he's standing there or to go on with her new life.

Julie started walking away from her father and then broke into a run. When she was close enough to Michelle to look into her eyes, she was sure it was Stephanie. "Stephanie, I can't believe it is you," she gasped.

Michelle looked at the adolescent in front of her. She was tall, slender but with the same coloring, same straight dark brown and same facial features as Ranger. Michelle's mind snapped into gear. This was Julie, Ranger's daughter. The new Michelle didn't know what to do, but the old Stephanie whispered, "Julie?"

The single acknowledgement was all it took for Julie to throw herself towards Michelle and hug her. Michelle, especially Mitch, stood rigid unsure what to do. The old Stephanie pushed out and threw her arms around Julie.

Tank continued to stare at Ranger. His face completely blank but inside he boiled with anxiety. There was no way he'd let Ranger hurt Mitch. One wrong word, one wrong turn and Ranger would be requiring Bobby for rehab once again or a pine box.

The Deacon had been growing interested in Mitch but when he heard Julie call her Stephanie, he realized this was Ranger's woman; the one he walked away from. He looked at Tank who mumbled under his breath, "OK you fucker, the ball is in your court."

Charlie did not know Ranger but surmised this was he. He suspected Michelle was still in love with Ranger but was he with her? It was like the standoff before a gun fight, who was going to blink or draw first?

Julie stepped back and looked at Stephanie and then looked at her father. She realized they were eye locked, neither was going to move. "Oh for heaven's sake," she said and stomped over to her father. Taking his hand, Julie dragged her father towards Stephanie, "Buck it up soldier." Out of curtesy Tank, The Deacon and Charlie plus wife and child backed away.

When Julie got Ranger with five feet of Stephanie she stopped and dropped her father's hand. "OK you two have danced around each other for far too long. Enough is enough. Don't screw it up this time."

"Jules," Ranger growled.

"Good, glad to know your brain and mouth are working, Dad. Now whatever needs to be said and done between you two, do it. You have been miserable for a year Dad. Either end this and get on with your miserable life or work on getting back together. You two aren't getting any younger."

Michelle smirked, "She's gotten bossy."

"Teenager," Ranger mumbled.

Julie walked away and put her arms around Tank. "Promise me you'll kill them if they mess this up."

Tank nodded, "Count on it. They would be mercy killings, for us all."

 **00000000**

Ranger and Mitch still didn't move. Finally Tank spoke up, "Mitch, you can't stand around like that or your muscles are going to cramp. Get moving, NOW!"

Sir, yes sir," she replied.

Ranger raised an eyebrow at her military response, but said nothing.

Tank nodded and started walking away, The Deacon and Charlie plus family followed. Julie went with Tank.

Mitch looked at Ranger, "He's right I'm getting cold and I don't want to cramp. Walk with me." It was then she remembered his cane. "Can you walk far?"

"I can walk farther every day."

She went to her rucksack and reached in for her sweat suit. She quickly dressed, zipped down her pants legs over her shoes and indicated she was ready.

Ranger watched and then noted the water bottle in her hand, "Hydrate, you don't want to get….

…hypothermia," she answered. She drank from her bottle.

They walked towards the base camp without talking. Michelle figured he had more questions that she and let him begin.

His limp wasn't too bad. The cane was used more for safety as he negotiated uneven terrain. After a while he spoke, "Why Mitch?"

"It's short for Michelle, my new name. Stephanie shattered and ceased to exist."

He thought about the two divorces and part of the family moving to Florida. How did they fit into her name change? Did she marry Joe? "Joe?" he asked not looking at her.

"Asshole."

"You didn't marry?"

"Hell no, after he won me and you left, I became nothing to him. He became abusive. Christmas Day….Stephanie died."

Ranger said nothing. What could he say? Instead his mind raged with questions, questions for later.

"Tank picked up the pieces and later other Rangeman," she said without explanation.

"You work at Rangeman now." It was a statement, not a question.

"I was too old for the Army."

"What?! Army?" Ranger was confused. "You were ready to enlist?"

"I needed to be reborn and figured the Army was the only way. Tank suggested it, but I was too old. So he undertook my training in the Maine woods in January. Instead of trial by fire it was trial by frostbite. Once I was somewhat stable, Bobby, Lester, Ram and Hector took over."

"You married Tank?"

"What? Heck no; nor Lester, Bobby, Ram, Hector, Vince, Cal, Carl, Bone, nor any of the others"

He was silent again as he walked towards the main gathering area. They were slow, Ranger was being careful.

She was quiet for a while, "I take it from Julie's comments you aren't married either."

He shook his head no.

"You seeing anybody?" she asked.

He shook his head no again. "What about you?"

Michelle explained, "I've remained celibate since Christmas Eve. It was the last time Joe hit me and ….forced me."

Ranger stopped as if he was wounded. He believed Stephanie would be safe with Joe, not become her abuser. "I couldn't….."

"I know," Michelle replied. "I finally understood. First Grandpa Mazur, then Tank and The Deacon helped me understand."

"You mean Grandma Mazur."

"No, it's a story for another day. I'm not going to ask why nobody told me you survived, I suspect I know. I wasn't ready. It didn't matter if you lived or died, I wasn't ready to know."

Ranger stopped suddenly and quietly asked, "I survived? What do you know?"

She stopped walking and turned to look right into those lovely chocolate eyes that were showing more emotion than she had ever seen before, "Ranger, look at me…it's all in the past, cremated, buried. Stephanie thought love should be all about what she craved, desperately needed; total love, total commitment. It didn't happen in her family or with Dickie or with Joe. You were the closest, but with the Damocles sword over your head, you couldn't. Michelle understands but Stephanie never did."

Ranger looked deep into her eyes, "Is Stephanie totally gone?"

"The shattered Stephanie is gone, she died. The obstinate, indecisive, lazy Stephanie got the stuffings kicked out of her by Tank at her request. Maybe the Stephanie that was filled with love to give is still there, I don't know. I've not allowed her to surface while I work on the rest of me. Right now Michelle or Mitch the Bitch guards the door."

He nodded and resumed walking. Men don't talk, they work it out internally. Probably his internal drive was spinning madly.

Michelle whispered, "Did you kill the fucker that kept us apart?"

His head snapped up. "Yes, Babe, he's gone."

The term Babe hit her heart, she gasped. She cleared her throat trying to get a voice, "I assume from your cane you no longer are under contract."

"It's suspended depending on my rehab. If I get back to 100% then I'll make up my mind."

Her mind raced, it's been about ten months and he's not 100%. How badly was he injured? Now what? Do they pick up from where they left off? No that was Stephanie. Would he even be interested in Michelle, or worse Mitch the Bitch?

They were at the main gathering area where tents were erected for comfort, warm, food and drink. Stephanie angled away from the crowd and stopped.

"Ranger, we've both been through a lot in the past year. I can only speak about myself. I've changed, a lot. You don't know me. Maybe I became what you hoped for or perhaps I've gone way too far. If you are looking for the old Stephanie with the tangled hair, who cried frequently to release her frustrations, anger, and angst; who was so obstinate she drove you, Joe and her mother crazy, she's gone. I no longer have family or so called Burg friends to run my life. My only friends reside on Haywood. I'm giving you a chance to escape, to run from the unknown. Right now I have to use the latrine. If you are gone when I come back, I understand."

She wanted to run to the Porta Potties but kept herself in control. Her heart was beating like a frightened dove. She could hardly breathe, black spots began to appear. Great, she hasn't had a panic attack in over a year. She had to bend over to let the blood back in her head, never a great idea in a latrine. This was not a place to pass out, ass in the air, and head on the floor. Wait! Where was Michelle, where was the Bitch? Hadn't she just spent months making herself into something stronger?

She sat down and began to think. Why didn't someone tell me he would be here? Maybe they thought, like Julie, enough was enough. Now or never; if there is anything between Ranger and her, they need to find it or completely end…..end what? Is there anything between left but ghosts from the past? Relationships are not built upon ghosts. What if he runs? Could she stay at Rangeman? Was she as strong as she thought she was? So many questions, but first she needed to get out of the tiny, smelly box and get fresh air. She opened the door and he was standing just outside. "I didn't run. I'm curious Babe," he said.

 **00000000**

She closed her eyes for a moment and swayed. He grabbed her arm, "Babe?"

"I'm OK, just….hungry." She was hungry and tired but mostly it was the emotions running around in her heart. Could she contain them?

Keeping hold of her arm he walked her to the picnic benches and sat her down. "What do you want to eat?"

"Fruit and a protein, something simple" she said.

For a moment he was shocked. No pizza, no doughnuts? She did ask for simple protein and fruit. No, this wasn't Stephanie Plum. "They have souvlaki, chicken kebabs."

"That will be fine…and water. Wait, you can't carry all that. I need to come with you."

"Babe."

She watched him disappear into the crowd. Was she dreaming? Was he really there or did she fall off a rope on the challenge course and is now hallucinating in some ICU unit in a hospital bed?

"Mitch, I hear you nailed the challenge course," Lester said as he slid down next to her on the bench. "You look…pale. Have you eaten? I'll get you something."

"No, Les, someone is getting me food." She looked at Lester, a man she loved not as a lover but as a friend, maybe even family. All of them; Les, Bobby, Tank, Hector, Ram, Cal, Woody, Bones, Ella and Luis were the only family she ever had that cared about her, save Grandpa Mazur and maybe Grandma Mazur though her love of gossip was inherited and enhanced by her daughter. "Thank you, Lester, for not telling me."

"Not telling you what?" he asked. He looked into the blue eyes he's adored since the first time he saw them. Then he knew. She had seen Ranger.

"Ranger?" he asked.

She nodded.

"We didn't tell you for the same reason we never told him about you," he said. "You both were broken, partially due to your lives together falling apart, but also other factors. You, Joe, engagement, you're your family, and apartment while he had his mission and the physical and psychological damage. You both needed time to mend and you needed to rebuild yourself. He was wounded, badly. That's why Bobby was gone for so long. He went down to work with him."

"Bobby didn't tell him?"

"No."

"And Ranger never asked about me?"

"Michelle, he was trying to decide if he wanted to live or die. Bobby said at night Ranger would call out for you but no, he never asked about you when he was awake. His rehab has been slow because of the ache in his heart. He didn't want to get better. Julie pulled him through." Lester watched her blue eyes begin to gloss over with tears, but she caught herself.

There was motion to her left and she and Lester looked over. Ranger and Julie were bringing over food.

"A little help here Lester," Julie called out.

Lester jumped up and helped carry the food to the table and then turned and gave Julie a big hug, "Julie, is that really you? Where did the little girl go?" He then turned to Ranger, hesitated a second and gave his cousin a brief man hug, "Good to see you Cuz."

Ranger mumbled, "It's been a while."

Everyone waited for Mitch to begin eating. She ate several pieces of fruit before she picked the meat off the skewer, though she really wasn't hungry. She knew Lester would insist otherwise he say….

"You've got to refuel," Les said to encourage her to eat.

He said exactly the same thing after each terrain training session, "You need a new line, Les. That one is getting too predictable."

She sipped her water then remembered, "Les, what about the Ninja course?"

"We resume with the finals in two hours."

"Finals, are you in the final?" Julie asked with her squeaky surprise voice.

"Yes, two of us from Trenton made it, one from here and one from Boston. Ramsey from Miami fell on the last station."

Julie's eyes were wide, "Are you going to climb Mt. Manoso?"

Michelle stopped chewing and looked at Julie and then Lester. Nobody told her an event at Rangemaninja was named Mt. Manoso.

Julie misinterpreted Michelle's stare. "It's like the TV show, 75 feet up a rope. Dad has won the event so often they named it after him."

Michelle looked at Ranger and then Lester. So much had been kept from her. How many years had Rangemaninja been held? Mt. Manoso. Knowing the name, would it have kept her from coming to Rangemaninja? Probably. Old Stephanie would be furious right now, how dare they keep this from her! But Michelle stopped and took a breath; they kept the information from her because they were so careful giving her time and space to heal. She put her head down into her hands. She didn't deserve them.

"Babe are you ill?" Ranger asked with concern.

"Mitch?' Lester wanted to wrap his arm around her, but just moved close, "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head no. Looking up she looked at Ranger, "You put together an amazing team. They all have taken such good care of me."

Ranger looked confused. How WELL have they taken care of her? What's been going on?

Lester tapped her shoulder to get her to look at him, "You are our little sister, even if you are older than most." That earned him a light elbow to the ribs. He laughed. "When you broke we had to put you back together. We didn't want you to go into the Army, we thought we could give you what you needed. We know broke, we've been through it ourselves. You have worked through the PTSD books and mostly through the abandonment issues." Lester wanted to stop and stare at his cousin, but kept going, "Even though Bobby was working with Ranger, he was checking back every few days. Tank formed the new mold, you filled the mold with incredible hard work. The rest of us have been polishing the edges. Michelle, you have been reborn one heck of a woman, a woman we are proud to call a Rangewoman. "

"Is that why you encouraged me to come here?" she said clearly without emotion though inside she was still reeling.

Lester shrugged, "Remember, Ram pushed it. He and I have been working to build your body and skills. You needed to know how good you've become in such a short time. Bobby wasn't sure you were emotionally for this trip. Tank said it was time. He suspected Ranger would be here."

Ranger sat back and listened. He has missed so much. Apparently the old Stephanie, err, new Michelle was willing to speak about feelings, but was he? She appeared to be strong emotionally now, was Ranger, the alter ego of Carlos Manoso this strong?

"This isn't something he needs to hear," Lester said tipping his head towards Ranger, "When we return Tank, Bobby and I are dividing our shares and making you a partner. You are that important to the business."

Michelle dropped the strawberry she was holding and stared at Lester.

He smiled his Lester Santos smile with the wiggly eyebrows, "I've got to go rest before the big climb. Promise me if I win you'll kiss my cheek. It's been a year. See you later, Bitch" He laughed as he walked away.

Ranger looked over asking with his eyes.

"Strictly hands off, celibate Michelle. Tank said I wasn't healthy enough for emotional interactions."

Ranger sat processing the new information. Julie couldn't contain herself, "Why did you cut your hair?"

"Tank and I were…in training. My hair didn't fit under a helmet so I had to wear it scrunched in a cap under my helmet. It matted and tangled."

"Helmet?" Julie asked.

"At that time I thought I'd go into the Army and didn't want to bomb out of Basic Training. Tank helped me get into shape and…correct my thinking. As for my hair, I was tired of fighting it. My mother never let me cut it saying I wouldn't look nice enough to attract a husband. If a man is only attracted to your body, then he's shallow and not worthy of your time. Also when a man, or woman forces you to become somebody else to fit their ideal, they are wrong for you and can end up destroying you," she said looking at Julie but ending up looking deep into Ranger's eyes. "I'm sorry, I was wrong," she said clearly to him.

Michelle knew this wasn't the time or place for an in-depth conversation. First Julie was present. Second, various people came up to Ranger to speak to him. They needed time and to be alone. Rangemaninja wasn't the place.

Michelle stood, "If you'll excuse me, I'm getting cold again. I'm going to catch the shuttle back to the hotel to shower and dress for the chill. I'll be back for the rope climb."

Ranger was going to offer to drive her when yet another individual came up and began discussing something with him. Once back at the hotel she ran into Ram.

"Let me guess, shower and warmer clothes?"

She smiled, "Did my blue lips give me away?"

Shaking his head no, "I'm freezing too. I assume you'll go to watch Les climb?"

"Wouldn't miss it," she laughed. "Plus he'd kill me if he knew I was back here napping. This way I can pack for our departure later."

Ram hesitated, "Did you….?"

Yes, I saw and spoke to him briefly. He didn't run from Mitch the Bitch and I didn't run. That's as far as it's gone." Then she paused, "You thought I was ready to see him?"

"And he needed to see you. Go slow, be Michelle or Mitch," Ram counseled.

 **00000000**

Ranger remained quiet. His life has been a curious passage. A loving childhood rich with love, but his rebellion took him into the dark areas of gangs, drugs and juvenile detention. Light returned with this Abuela in Florida. He gave college a try but he needed more. He needed to be a part of something honorable. The Army gave him a purpose. He was cruising along when another detour occurred, Rachel. A brief interlude in a cheap motel left her pregnant. Being basically moral, he married her giving the child a birth certificate with a mother and father of the same name. The divorce was a formality; there was no relationship between them other than errant sperm and now a lovely baby.

He was a good fit for the Army, too good a fit. Whatever he did, he did to exceptionally well often casting him into darkness. When he left after serving 6 years he was approached to continue what he did so well as a private contractor. He was Carlos Manoso, the Ranger and soon just Ranger. His uncanny abilities and intelligence made him a favorite contractor and soon a wealthy contractor, but his life was lived in the dark. One did not do what he did without emotional destruction. His relationships with women were on an as needed basis; a few hours at most. He had built a wall around himself, until that fateful day in the tiny café in Trenton. He had set up Rangeman Trenton with his Army buddies and was preparing to move to Miami in a month or so to help finalized Rangeman Miami. From that initial meet with a woman with intense blue eyes and crazy brown curls, his cruise down life's highway become as tangled as a Roundabout with a dozen different exits. He was enthralled by this woman and every exit he took only led him back to her.

Last year when he learned he'd finally get a chance to eliminate Guzman he knew he was probably facing the end of his crazy life. One last thing needed to be cleaned up, Stephanie. She had grown weary of waiting for him, beaten down by her mother and the Burg. If he failed to kill Guzman and lost his life, there was no guarantee Stephanie and his family and Rangeman would be safe. He did what he could to protect everyone including having Joe Morelli, a cop, marry her. With her safely engaged to Joe he could go and do his duty one last time. It seemed so simple, so neat.

 **00000000**

Before the rope climb, awards were passed out to the winners of the different events. The Deacon, as host of the games was the announcer and Ranger handed out the awards.

The Deacon addressed the crowd, "When Ranger, Patrick, Marco and I envisioned a day of competition between the Rangeman offices, we never expected it to blossom into this. Originally the games were various marksmanship events and a challenge course.

"As the companies have grown, interest in the event has grown and the number participating. Additionally the quality of participants increased to where we had to add a tough Ninja course and other events.

"Perhaps the biggest surprise is the number of woman to participate in the trials, six this year and surprisingly they hold their own against the men. Rangeman has high expectations of all workers and this excellence is shown in the men and woman who have and are participating these two days."

Standing a bit taller, if that was possible he began, "It is time to hand out the awards. As usual the competition was tough. Each year the proficiency increases and us older guys have to work harder to keep up with you bucks." Chuckles were heard in the crowd.

"The top three scores in single gun are: Ranger Manoso, no surprise there. Tank from Trenton, and me The Deacon. Good to know C Company can still shoot," he chuckled. "Pat and Marco also did well so us old farts don't need glasses….yet."

"The top woman in single handgun placing 6th overall is Mitch from Trenton."

Michelle stood like a statue, that couldn't be. Ram had to turn her and push her to the awards stage, "You earned it. Look at Ranger's face," he said laughing.

She stepped onto the stage and accepted the award from Ranger, "Proud of you Babe," he muttered.

The Deacon continued, "Whoa Mitch, don't go. Two member team competition: Charlie and Mitch from Trenton on the combined time and number of paint ball _wounds_. They had a clean run. Brian and Clark from Miami second and Murphy and Silvio from Miami third."

Charlie joined her on stage, "You have a good partner, Charlie," Ranger said. "Yes sir, the best," Charlie replied. Then turning to Michelle Ranger said, "I knew you could shoot, you just refused to believe in yourself."

She muttered, "Exactly."

The Deacon took over, "Now the Rifle/Sniper awards: Brian Atlanta, Ram Trenton, Herman Boston. Top woman; at 7th, Claudia Atlanta.

To complete the weapons categories we have the three gun competition: Greg Atlanta. Don't go deer hunting with him, it will be a very short hunt. Second place the old man from Miami, Marco. Third is a newcomer to three guns, Mitch Trenton. Somebody has an eagle eye. Better watch out snipers, Mitch may be entering your competition next year."

Walking onto the awards stage was getting embarrassing. Ranger was holding his expression but the crinkles in his eyes indicated he was laughing.

The Deacon began again, "The swimming events are fairly new to Rangemaninja, due in part to the number of SEALS now with us. For the 1000 m. swim Doug Miami, Stew from Miami and Charlotte Boston.

"Now for the sinker awards, 100 m underwater," The Deacons said, "Jason Trenton, Peaches from Boston and Ram Trenton."

"For the long distance 5 km swim, the winners are, Ram Trenton, Charlotte Boston and Newell from Atlanta. Side mention, Mitch placed 6th, not bad for the first time ever swimming in competition." Mitch was surprised; she knew she saw well, but not that well.

"For us overly muscled guys, the strong-man competition," The Deacon tried to kid. "Winners are Hal Trenton, The Deacon me, Tank Trenton. I believe this is the first time Hal beat Tank. Wonders never cease. No women participated, maybe next year, but remember, no steriods." This garnered a few chuckles form the group.

"Hand to hand competition winner is no surprise since Ranger didn't compete, Tank Trenton, I never could best those two. Second goes to Kyle Boston, third Charlie Boston. Top woman was Charlotte Atlanta. Hopefully more women will compete next year."

"We come to everyone favorite, the challenge course. It is my understanding the first two place winners train together so it is no surprise they did well. First place, Lester Trenton, second place and would have taken first if she had not stopped to do a little celebratory jug after the Tarzan swing, Mitch Trenton. Third place goes to Andy Atlanta."

When Michelle received her award from Ranger he said, "I've never seen the course run so well."

"You were watching?"

"I didn't know it was you until Tarzan."

"You called out to me." She flashed on the dream or whatever it was with grandpa Mazur and someone calling out to her after the Tarzan swing.

He smiled.

"Once again Team Trenton takes overall championship and overall woman is Mitch Trenton. This was Mitch's first trip to Rangemaninja. Let's hope this was beginner's luck otherwise next year she's going to kick all our butts," The Deacon finished.

This time Ranger wanted to throw his arms around her but she backed off. "Proud of you Babe and absolutely shocked."

She blushed, "I had really great coaches beginning with Tank. As I said before, you put together a great team."

The Deacon announced to the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for the finale, the timed climb of Mt. Manoso. Named in honor of this gentleman who has won the event every year and set a time no mortal has gotten close. Today we have four who will climb. They earned the honor by successfully completing the ten events of Ninja. I have a bowl with the four contestants' names and will draw to determine what order they climb. First to climb will be Steven from Boston. Second will be Jason from Trenton, third will be Andy from Atlanta. The last to climb will be Lester Trenton.

Steven from Boston set a blistering climb of 47 seconds. The three others tilted their heads wondering if they could do better. The second climber, Jason, got off fast but faltered near the end ending up with 52 seconds. Andy from Atlanta who scored third on the challenge course climbed in 45 seconds. It was the last climber's time, Lester. He glanced at his cousin Ranger and smiled. Ranger smiled back. This was a family bet, who was faster. Ranger's record was 35 seconds, slower than the American Ninjas, but Ranger was more heavily muscled. Lester climbed fast and steady, but he hit the buzzer the clock showed 37 seconds. He won the event but his cousin's record remained.

When he returned back to the ground Michelle gave him a kiss on the cheek, "Did you do your absolute best?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, "Once again that fucker beat me again. He must be Superman."

"You are carrying some of those Superman genes too mister," she smiled.

Ranger came up and gave Lester first a hand shake and later a hug, "You deserve the time."

"Mt. Manoso still stands. Somehow Mt. Lester sounds wrong," Michelle kidded.

"What's wrong with Mt. Santos?" Lester shot back.

"When you win it 7 times in a row, then we'll rename it," Ranger said.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

" **Babe** we need to talk," Ranger said as the crowd dispersed.

"We are leaving for Newark in a couple of hours," she said.

He was going to suggest she come to Miami. "Perhaps I need to make an inspection of the Trenton office."

"Yes, you need to see the changes Tank and Lester have made," she said. "Perhaps we could have lunch," she said.

It wasn't what he had in mind but realized she was holding him back, arm's length. Does she hate me for abandoning her to Joe? "So you still live in your apartment?"

"No, I gave it up. I have an apartment on Haywood, 4th floor."

"I'm glad you moved, your apartment on St. James wasn't safe. I know it was your statement of independence, but it was dangerous," he said.

She didn't tell him it was now a vacant lot and probably more safe now than before.

"Would you mind if we at least talk on the phone before I can get up there?"

"Ranger, I'd like that."

"Babe, so much has changed for me and apparently for you. Before you leave may I give you a hug?"

She didn't answer, she just moved into his arms and rested her head on his chest. He smelled different, he has changed his body products, but he still feels the same.

But Ranger thought she felt different. Before she was feminine, her wild hair tickled his nose. Now she was solid, there were muscles where before it was minimal. Her short hair no longer smelled of strawberries but of the ocean and herbs. It wasn't quite a man's scent but it wasn't childish as before. She had changed, but one thing that had not, her eyes. Still the deep blue that so captivated him years ago in that small café.

"One small kiss please," he begged.

She was surprised, he never asked before, he took. Was this the same man?

She tipped her head and hesitantly accepted his kiss. At first it had all the makings of a chaste kiss, but it grew slowly in intensity. It was as if the two bodies were identifying the other after a long absence. There was no groping and only light tongue teasing, it was a sweet kiss with a hefty dose of "I'm interested" mixed in.

She backed off, "I've got to go. The others are waiting." She raised her hand and cupped his cheek, "I'm glad you survived."

As she left she thought of all the times he was the first to leave; leave an embrace, leave a night of passion, leave on a mission. Now she was the one who broke it up.

Times are a-changing.

00000000

The night flight home did not take them over densely populated areas but rather the forests of Tennessee, Virginia and West Virginia. If she was sitting on the starboard side she might see the bright lights of Washinton DC to the east. She gazed out the window not really seeing the small concentrations of lights mixed among the forests below. The view was inside her head.

All Rangeman were flying first class or business class for the extra legroom, so this portion of the cabin was populated by athletic men and the female flight attendants were being very attentive to the beefy men, ignoring the lone woman. Mitch didn't mind. Tank sat beside her, lost in his own thoughts for over an hour but finally spoke, "Need I ask what you are thinking?"

She snorted, "You can probably guess."

"Now that you are strong and self-reliant you don't know if you want a relationship with him."

"Exactly."

"Your heart says yes, your mind isn't sure. "

"Pretty well nailed it, Yoda," Michelle shot back.

He chuckled, "I always thought myself closer to Obi Juan Kenobi."

She snorted, "No actually the first time I saw you I thought of Darth Vader."

"It must have been the uniform."

"It was the night you threw someone out the window in a redecorating job," she said remembering the ride to the apartment building with Tank, Lester and Bobby shoved into the back seat of the SUV. They made a frightening trio.

His mind scrolled back, "I got shot that night. Vest saved me."

"I nearly got blown up. It was a memorable introduction to Rangeman."

"The most important thing Michelle is you didn't run away. That was the first time Ranger and I knew under all that confusion and mess and confusion was a strong woman."

"Took years and hitting bottom to find her," Michelle sighed.

"Think of it more like a landslide resulting from an earthquake. Remember Mt. St. Helens erupted after an earthquake caused a landslide releasing all the pressure inside."

"And I spewed ash all over the Burg."

"Just like Mt. Vesuvius and Pompeii."

"And left a caldera. "

Tank looked over at her confused, but let her finish.

The plane passed over a cloud layer forcing her to look back into the cabin. "In the middle of the devastation, I've never stopped loving him."

"I know and watching you too together, even briefly in Atlanta, he feels the same. If it hadn't been for Julie, he might still be standing there in the woods. I've never seen Ric so emotional; surprised, confused, embarrassed, joyous, sad and probably a few more. For a man with a granite face, he let a lot out."

"Maybe he was mirroring my own expressions," she shrugged.

Tank was quiet for a while trying to decide what he could tell her now. "He was devastated he had to leave you."

"No, I left him."

"That's what he wanted you to believe. He found out about Guzman in early September. He had to force Joe to step up, so told him he was going to propose when he returned. Joe took the bluff," Tank explained.

"It was a bluff? He wasn't going to marry me?" she was trying not to react in Stephanie mode, indignant and mad. Mitch was holding tight.

"He wanted you safe."

"Yeah, that worked out well," she snorted.

"Mitch, he left expecting to die. I've never seen Ric more depressed. He knew he could be leading his men into death including me. If the Guzman eliminated the team I was next on the list, maybe you too. By being married to Joe, Guzman might have overlooked you. Times past Ric told me to take care of you, this time he knew I might not be able."

She reacted with surprise, "What do you mean, take care of me? Marry me?"

He shook his head, "Initially it was keep you safe, help you with your job. Later it became more, at least to me."

Oh no, was Tank in love with her? "What do you mean more?" she asked cautiously.

"We knew Joe would never cut it off with Terri Gilman plus his regular visits to women across the bridge. We couldn't step in," he explained. "You would have blamed us, cut us off and run. Maybe run to Joe but more likely away from Trenton."

She sat absorbing what he's said so far. "Tank, what would have happened if you were gone and I was stuck with Joe?"

Tank huffed up, "Recruit, you don't think about what might have been, but rather concentrate on the future. _What Ifs_ and _Would have beens_ were what got you into trouble, fantasies."

Was she falling back into Stephanie mode? Is that what seeing Ranger did to her?

Tank relaxed, "Hector would have made you a widow."

She turned and glared at Tank.

"Not my instructions, Hector's plan. He would have waited until months after the wedding so you inherit Joe's insurance, pension, and house. Better to lose him in service than him kicked off the force or sent to prison. Otherwise, if you had not married Morelli, Ranger's and my wills are written you would inherit a portion of Rangeman Trenton. You, Lester and Bobby would run Rangeman or you could sell your shares and move to the house in Maine."

"I don't want the money…wait, the Maine house?"

"Rangeman was his way of taking care of you, the house was mine. We couldn't foresee Christmas Day and the new Michelle."

00000000

When the plane landed in Newark, the Trenton crew divided up into vehicles and drove to Rangeman arriving after 01:00. Most had early shifts so no celebrations, everyone went to bed. Michelle wanted to think about Ranger and what Tank said, but her body was exhausted. She slept only a few hours before awakening at 04:30, her usual time. It was now habit and part of the original Ranger Creed dating back to the 18th century: "Never let the dawn catch you sleeping. That's when the enemy attacks." When she entered the gym there were cheers from the guys already working out, "There she is our champ!" Each came up and congratulated her.

"Why didn't you take the day off?" Woody asked.

She was confused, "You guys covered for me. I'm not taking any more advantage of your generosity."

Chet laughed, "Lester is."

"Les worked hard, he won Mt. Manoso."

Chet turned serious, "Ah, did you, ah…see…."

"Did I see Ranger? Yes and we talked briefly."

"Did he make any comment about the new Michelle?"

"He was confused," she answered.

Bones cut in, "How did he look? He was badly injured."

Still she didn't know how badly he was injured, "He uses a cane."

"Wow! He was a paraplegic when he got back," Bones gasped.

"What?" She was confused. Bobby was down there a lot, back and forth.

"He didn't tell you?"

"Obviously not."

"Well, he is Ranger," Bones shrugged and went back to his weights.

She climbed onto the bike and started peddling entering her zone where she could think. What did Lester say? "Michelle, he was trying to survive. At night Ranger would call out for you but no, he never asked about you when he was awake. His rehab has been slow because of the ache in his heart. He didn't want to get better. Julie pulled him through."

She couldn't imagine Ranger as a paraplegic; he'd eat a bullet first. Julie must have convinced him to work hard, not give up. She needed her father.

She then thought of her talk with Tank, "I've never stopped loving him….I know and watching you two together, even briefly in Atlanta, he feels the same."

"Earth to Mitch, earth to Mitch," the voice called through the mental fog. She shook herself back to the here and now and found Bobby smirking at her. "Are you pedaling in the Tour du France today?"

"Huh?"

"You've been riding for 2 ½ hours. I'm surprised with the lack of sleep you've had, you can ride this far. When you get a break, we'll discuss what is consuming your mind. I know you have a thousand questions."

She nodded and leapt from her bike and hustled back to her apartment arriving at her desk exactly at 08:00, technically an hour late but she could make it up later. Balloons and flowers covered her desk and congratulatory cards. The guys probably waited around for her to deliver the gifts personally but she was late. She needed to get them something special.

Her mind immediately thought of Tasty Pastry for pastries, but she couldn't decide what, so she called the bakery and ordered 5 dozen pastry assortments, anything but cupcakes. The order name was Mitch at Rangeman. Grabbing Hector, "I need support; I'm going to Tasty Pastry. I don't want to fall off my sugar wagon."

He laughed and kissed her cheek, " _Protegeré tu virtud_."

"No," she laughed slugging him. "Not my virtue, _t_ _engo miedo de engordar_."

" _Angelita_ , you no get fat, Lester he run it off you," Lester smiled.

" _Esa es la verdad_ ," she winced. She was still tired and sore from the Rangemaninja competition and now the bicycle.

Maybe its Rangeman vibes but whenever the big black vehicles come into the Burg, they find close by parking. By some miracle Mitch had cash and wouldn't need to flash a Stephanie Plum card in the Burg. She angled out of the car and walked boldly into the pastry shop. Her hair recently cut, black uniform and ballistics vest and short lined jacket that accentuated her new broad shoulders, flat abs and tight ass that even Joyce Barnhardt would envy. The loose tech pants didn't show her strong legs but instead held the Kimber handgun strapped to her thigh. She still had female curves but now that were well defined. It was November but the sun was bright so she retained her aviator sunglasses and cap. She moved with authority, something new in her life. She needed all her reserve strength because when she walked in, Helen Mazur, formerly Plum, her mother, followed her and saying hello to Angie Morelli who was already in the store. Mitch ignored them and they said nothing to her. As Bridgette, the person behind the counter finished up with Angie, Mitch noticed Hector had moved into the shop.

"Next," Bridgette called.

Mitch ignored the chatter behind her and stepped up to the counter. Lowering her voice she said, "Rangeman."

Helen and Angie turned from talking with one another and looked at Michelle, then to the pastry clerk, "You allow thugs in here, Bridgette?" Helen hissed.

Bridgette rolled her eyes, "Helen Mazur, Rangeman is the premier security company here in Trenton. They are honorable men and women, quick to respond to trouble, courteous when they service the systems and always pay for their doughnuts, unlike many policemen. If you have a problem with Rangeman maybe you need to find a someplace else for your bread. You might try the day-old shop over on Remsen."

It must have been early in the day because Helen Mazur formerly Plum was sober enough to know she had been insulted the stormed out of the store with Mrs. Morelli. Mitch remained mute facing Bridgette. Upon receiving her change, Mitch said simply, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Stephanie."

"No, I am no longer Stephanie. The name disgusts me as it was given to me by…that woman. I've had to remake my life after the emotional BS she and the Burg gossipers put me through."

Bridgette hung her head in shame, "I'm sorry for my part."

Michelle wanted to ream Bridgette too but instead calmly said, "Gossip is a horrible habit, almost a disease. It causes unbelievable pain to those who are its victims. It's a form of bullying; cutting others down to make you look larger."

"I know. It destroyed your parent's marriage."

She wasn't about to tell Bridgette about being the unwanted child. "Yes and look what it did to …..her.

Bridgette perked up a bit, "Glad to see you back in the store. You are always welcome, your mother isn't."

"You may lose significant business once the gossip starts up."

"I doubt it. Rangeman honor over Helen Mazur. As of right now, this is a gossip free zone. I'll make a sign for all to see. Already the younger clients eschew the older clients' blather. While you are here we have 12 loaves of whole wheat bread for Ella. Can you take them back? You'll save her a trip here."

Hector stepped up and took the box with the bread. Mitch handled the five doughnut boxes. "Thank you for supporting Rangeman, Bridgette."

"No, thank Rangeman for 84 loaves of bread a week," she laughed. "You treat us well and send such hulking men to work the security system. Like _Señor_ Hector here. Must be difficult to work there," Bridgette smiled.

Stephanie/Michelle/Mitch lowered her sunglasses, smiled and winked, turned and walked out of the bakery.

Hector was chuckling when he started the SUV. "Hulking?"

" _Pesado,_ what would you want her to say?

" _Aterrador como el infierno_."

She laughed, "Yes you are scary as hell too _, mi hermano_."

"You did well; you didn't rise to the bait."

"Hector, I don't think she knew me."

"She did, not a first. Before she entered the store she looked at the car and me before she went in. _Madres_ know their children."

"You think she was baiting me?"

 _"_ _Si."_

"She can't hurt me."

He leaned over and kissed my cheek, "I'm sorry."

"You be sorry, _mi hermano_ , I don't care anymore."

"Will you talk to her?"

"Why waste the oxygen? She won't change."

0000000

By 12:00 Mitch had worked through most of the customer files she had set aside before going to Atlanta. She needed to run them by either Tank or Lester and the contract attorney before putting together a fancy presentation folder. Her body was failing from lack of sleep and she had monitor duty tonight. She signed out with a giant notation on the board, NAPPING! It was a subtle reminder not to contact her unless the building was under attack or a fellow Rangeman needed back up.

Rising at 17:00 she had two hours to shower, dress and eat before reporting back to the 5th floor. She glanced at her cell phone and noted several messages from Ranger. The first was a general, "Call me when you get a chance." The second was more concerned, "Mandatory 12 hours off. You shouldn't be working." That seemed a bit bossy. The third was made her smile, "I've called the 5th floor desk demanding they knock on your apartment to see if you are OK. They said they didn't want to be shot. Babe."

While showering and dressing she composed a message in her head and then while eating dinner she fired up her computer instead of sending a brief text, "Unlike Les who ran both challenge and Ninja and no doubt is exhausted, I'm working today to finish up several proposals. I've napped and now preparing to work monitors tonight. I never appreciated all the time you gave me. How did you justify my intrusions?"

That seemed a pretty neutral, vanilla response plus ignored his bossy second text.

Before heading back to her at O-Dark-Thirty hours after monitors, she noted a text from Ranger, "Babe, anything for you."

She responded simply, "Thank you."

She awoke at 04:30 out of habit. There was a message from Lester, "Stay in bed. Contracts won't be ready until 12:00. Your day begins at 13:00. You didn't save me a doughnut."

She didn't know if Ranger had called him or Tank from Miami wondering why she didn't get her 12 hour down time. At 10:00 she wandered into the empty gym. This wasn't fun, nobody….no body….to admire. Without someone to spot her on the weights she did what she could, ran 5 miles, worked the kettle bells, and was heading back to her apartment to dress for the day when she met Bobby.

"I'll be in your office at 13:00."

Michelle was already hard at work when Bobby knocked, "How do you feel?"

She wiggled a bit, "Better, yesterday I was dragging. I guess I needed more sleep."

"Next time, take the day off after and recharge. Your body needed time," he said in his best medic voice.

"Aye, aye sir."

He shook his head hoping she wasn't becoming smart-mouthed like Lester was. "We need to talk about what happened to Ranger."

She sat back, did she want to know? Heck yes! "I heard in the gym he was paralyzed."

"Yes he was. He fell and broke nearly every bone in his rock hard body; broken bones, massive contusions, though he was wearing a helmet, he had a concussion. Anybody else would have been dead. You can imagine his mental state. Good thing he was immobilized, otherwise he would have found a way to kill himself. Julie did an amazing job of keeping him mentally together."

"How long?"

"Most bones took 12 weeks, some a little longer. The paralysis lasted about eight weeks."

Mitch didn't put her head in her hands or weep, she just looked out her window. "Could I have helped?"

"No, you were barely together yourself. You were still warding off frostbite with Tank. If you remember when you returned to the Safe House I immediately left you in Bones' care. Imagine the mental and physical anguish he was in. If you had shown up as you were then, you would have gone back down into the hole and no telling where he would have gone. As it was, I was truly worried about his mental health. He'd call to you, talk to you at night."

"He called to me?"

"Only at night in his sleep or if he was drugged, never when he was conscious or awake"

"What did he say?"

"He was begging your forgiveness for hurting you. He couldn't risk you being injured."

"Injured, right, who ended up at St. Francis in a regular basis?"

"No Mitch, dead from Guzman."

"Tank said the same. Are there any more Guzmans?"

"Possibly, but Guzman carved a niche for himself by eliminating competition. Others are mostly gone, the few remaining we keep an eye on. Their problems are with the new mercenaries, the ones Ranger has been training. Ranger's mercenary days are over."

"He doesn't believe it."

"At best he could be a trainer, but he'll never go on another mission. There is enough metal in his body to keep grounded."

"He still uses a cane. He was very tentative on the trail coming back to base camp."

"He's still weak in one leg, but you know Ranger, he'll work five times harder to get the leg back."

"Will it come back totally?"

"I believe so. His upper body has returned, the legs will follow."

"What is his mental health?" she asked.

Bobby took a big breath and slowly let it out, "That's harder to fix. Not my expertise. Once he accepts his contract work is over, he'll have to adjust. He was dying internally until he met you. I didn't expect him to live much beyond thirty five before he self-destructed."

She stared at Bobby. Ranger commit suicide?

"He'll realize he can't go back to what was. If he had a reason to move on, his perseverance will pull him through. Seeing you strong will confuse him. In the past he was your mentor, your rescuer, now you are strong and smarter. He may feel he isn't needed any more."

Mitch was remembering their discussion near the latrines at base camp, "When I told him Stephanie was gone, I gave him the option of leaving. He said he was curious."

Bobby smiled a bit. "That is hopeful, very hopeful. But Mitch, is Stephanie really gone or just repressed?"

"Bobby, I don't know," she moaned.

"Don't let Tank hear you!" Bobby cautioned. "None of us want to see the old Stephanie again. Ranger wanted a strong Stephanie; one trained, who planned ahead and was flexible enough to adjust quickly to new situations. He wanted one who didn't listen to gossip or allow others to tell her how to lead her life and one who took better care of herself. His plan was to encourage you bit by bit, but the obstinate Stephanie wouldn't change. It took something drastic to break your hard shell."

She knew this but it was good to hear it again from someone other than Tank.

"Michelle, you've climbed onto a high plateau. You can go higher, hardening yourself to where you may not like what you become. You think Stephanie is gone, but we see her, the loving and playful Stephanie peeks out. The three of you: Stephanie, Michelle the modern woman and Mitch the Bitch are going to have to work together."

Sounds like a multiple personality disorder.

He laughed, "We all have multiple personalities. Look at me, the doctor, Dr. Robert Brown, Bobby Brown the former Army Ranger and now the civilian security expert, and Bobby the lover," he said with a smile. Then there is Lester; player, the man who wants to be a husband and father but afraid of commitment. That must run in his family. He is also Lester the Ranger, Lester the lousy accountant but great with client relations. Tank is another mix; the big scary guy who would rather growl than speak. Tank who feigns indifference but who deeply cares," Bobby listed.

Michelle had a few more Tank traits Bobby hadn't listed, Tank the artist, Tank the cook, and Tank the verbose philosopher.

Bobby continued, "We all balance our different sides. You have been concentrating on just one, Mitch the Bitch. Maybe it's time to let the softer, Michelle but also a bit of loving Stephanie back out."

She sat quiet for a while, "He wants to come up here."

"Excellent. He needs to see you and how you have changed and you need to see and talk to him. You two have a lot of history, but if you can push the bad away, I believe you are still compatible."

"Are we Bobby?"

"Oh hell yes, but we can't tell you, the two of you knuckleheads need to figure it out yourselves."

"Does he still have a job with Rangeman?"

"Sort of. From the beginning he set himself as Executive CEO fully expecting it to be and empty chair at some point. Each Rangeman office has its own staff: Marco, The Deacon, Patrick and Tank. If he wants he can start a new office, or just go off and do something else, it's his choice."

"So he won't come back here and run this office?"

Bobby shook his head, "I doubt it. Tank is doing an amazing job, but not to inflate your ego, a lot has to do with you."

"What? Me?"

"Michelle the business woman filled the deficiencies here, something by the way, desperately wanted you realize, but you were so damn…"

"Obstinate. I had to prove myself."

"Prove yourself and your mother, not us. Your people skills are far ahead of us lugs; we scare the poop out of prospective clients. I dare say in the not too distant future you could take over the business end of Rangeman."

"Bite your tongue! No way!"

"Not all of Rangeman of course. We still need security specialists and some hard nose boss to keep us in line. Not all the guys would respond to Mitch the Bitch unless you up your abilities on the mats. You are smart and capable and increasingly emotionally stable. What are your dreams now?"

"I don't have any."

"Maybe you need new priorities and start working on them."

"You sound like Tank."

"I don't growl as well as he does."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **Sorry for the delay. I have two other stories in motion. My mind needs to remain on a single track.**

 **Thank you all for the notes and reviews. You've helped me straighten out my thinking...I think, LOL!**

* * *

" **Is** this Frank Plum?" the caller asked.

"Yes."

I'm Carlos Manoso, you knew me as Ranger in Trenton. I'd like to talk to you."

"Ranger…I thought you were…"

Ranger interrupted, "Sir, I have many questions and I image you have some was well. Instead of speaking on the phone, I'd like to come to Melbourne and speak personally."

Frank hesitated,"Can you come when my granddaughters are in school?" Frank wasn't sure where Ranger was calling from or what he wanted to discuss.

"Yes sir, I can be there any time."

"Thursday Edith spends with her lady friends, she leaves the house at 9 and returns about 3. Anytime in there would be fine.

"Sir, I can be there at 10 am Thursday."

"Plan on having lunch here. Nothing fancy, just salad," Frank said.

 **00000000**

The Plum house was a one story grey stucco ranch style with white trim, less than 10 years old. The front yard lawn was dichondra and the azalea shrubs against the house clipped into perfect, if not boring rectangles. No cars were parked in the driveway, Frank apparently used his garage.

Ranger angled out of his black Porsche Panamera. His beloved 911 Turbo was still too confining for his body plus the 180 mile ride would wear on his healing body.

Frank answered the door quickly, "Ranger, come in please. May I get you coffee or water?"

"Coffee would be fine, just black please." Ranger noted Frank looked different. He had lost weight, about 30 pounds and was trimming up.

"We could sit here in the living room or at the table," noting Ranger was using a cane.

"Table would be fine, sir."

As Ranger walked towards the back of the house he noted the white tile floors, raised ceilings, plantation blinds on the windows, a Florida home. The walls were a soft grey almost like silver. The furniture was neutral, no florals or stripes. He approved. In the corner of the living room sat a Christmas tree, a six foot artificial tree with minimal ornaments. "This is quite different from the Burg."

"Hell yes. I can breathe here. Edna and I pooled our money and bought this. It's 100 years younger than the Burg house, 25% larger, four bedrooms, 2 ½ baths, 3 times as expensive, but the taxes are half what we were paying in Trenton," Frank explained.

"No pool?"

Frank scoffed, "All the girls' friends have pools, let their parents tend them. I don't need the extra insurance costs."

Both men sipped their coffee but didn't speak for a while. Men are not big chatters.

Finally Frank began, "How did you find me?"

"I saw the Buick in Little Cuba and followed it to the Marriott. I called the new owner and he said you, Edna and your granddaughters live here now."

"Not all the granddaughters. Lisa is with Albert in Trenton. It's been about ten months now." He looked at Ranger and saw his granite face, a face he himself had perfected years ago when he was in the Army. "Do you know I wore a Green Beret? 1972-75 Viet Nam and Laos."

Looking at the Frank Plum now, he could believe it. "Tough times."

"I survived the jungle but came home and died. In the Burg heritage was important; Italian or eastern European. Anything else was considered alien. I married Helen, got a job with the Post Office and figured that was my life. But it was empty. We had Valerie and Stephanie within two years. We were only going to have two children, one of each. Though we couldn't afford it, we had a third, a boy, Anthony Franco. Helen didn't do well through the third pregnancy, Anthony was born premature and Helen hemorrhaged. His lungs never formed properly and he died after several months." Frank paused, got up and brought the coffee pot for refilling his and Ranger's cups.

He sat down and continued, "Helen couldn't have more children. I accepted I wouldn't have a namesake but Helen was so set on one girl for her and a boy for me, she became depressed. The depression grew to animosity towards the extra girl, Stephanie. I'm sure you saw it. I didn't. I was in pain; Viet Nam, losing a son, losing a wife to depression or PTSD, but we didn't have those terms back then."

Ranger was beginning to see the dysfunctional Plum household in a new light.

"Stephanie was always a tomboy and could have been the son I wanted to teach to fish and hunt but instead I ignored her, leaving her to Helen's venom. I closed my ears and eyes. That poor girl suffered terribly under Helen, retreating to her grandparents for solace. Helen began drinking about the time Valerie married and moved to California. Her perfect daughter was gone, her crazy mother had moved in and Stephanie, her great disappointment remained."

Frank got up and went to the glass doors and gazed out, seeing his past not his Florida back yard. "Helen arranged the marriage to Dickie Orr. Edna knew it was wrong but held no sway. When the marriage died, Helen blamed Stephanie for her prudish attitude towards sex. An attitude Helen herself helped form. Nothing Pumpkin did after that was acceptable.

I don't know if I thought Joseph Morelli was a suitable husband or I just parroted Helen. I could see you treated my daughter with more respect, never criticizing her, at least in front of us but Helen was convinced you were a convict. Maybe I thought you were in the same mental shit hole I was in those many years ago. Most likely I just didn't think.

When Joe presented Stephanie with a ring, Pumpkin was still desperately trying to gain her mother's acceptance, thirty two years she had been trying. When you left town for good, Stephanie lost her spark. She became a Burg zombie. A big part of her heart died. I saw it but thought it was best; after all, that's what Helen was saying she needed to become.

What I didn't know was Joe never intended to marry her; he just wanted a bed whore and to one up the all-powerful Manoso. Male egos, pissing contests to see who can pee the higher up the pole. Joe said they'd marry within 2 months, the months passed and he refused to set a date. Helen and Angie Morelli were going crazy trying to pin down VFW halls and all that crap. Nobody knew was he punishing my daughter for her love for you. He would come home and beat Stephanie forcing her to have sex, just like his father and uncles. She started wearing makeup to hide the bruises."

Frank paused, "Ranger, years ago when I was still a man, I would have killed the SOB, but I was frozen in my own self-hatred."

Ranger spoke quietly, "I saw her a few weeks ago in Atlanta. She said Stephanie died. I don't understand."

"She was growing more and more distant, depressed. Helen and Angie ragged on her to name a date but she deferred to Joe each time. Christmas Eve she was having dinner at the Morellis before going to mass. Joe got an apparent call out so dropped Stephanie at our house. Helen raged about Pumpkin leaving the Morellis, not going to church with them, improper manners or Burg behavior, improper church attire, and other garbage. Stephanie quietly said she'd go home and change. What she didn't say is she didn't have a car, Joe dropped her off. She walked back to apartment, at night, four miles. Thank God she arrived safely only to find the apartment building had no heat or water. Red Cross evacuated everyone but there weren't enough motels for pet owners. She called Rangeman and thankfully they came and got her even though you left orders she was not to be given any further aid. The next morning one of the gentleman was returning her to Joe's house when they saw Joe and Terri Gilmore in an amorous clutch at the front door. Everyone's car was covered in the overnight snow, it was obvious Joe's callout was to screw Terri. Neighbors took pictures and within an hour the whole Burg knew about Joe and his Christmas Eve adultery. The Rangeman driver offered to return Pumpkin to her apartment, but they found the whole building engulfed in flames from an electrical fire. Suddenly Pumpkin had nothing; no Joe, no apartment, no aid from Rangeman, and a family that never supported her.

Stephanie broke down, leaping from the car and running away from her life. The Rangeman men tracked her down and got her help. I don't know where they took her.

Joe didn't seem to notice or care she was gone until Helen started badgering him. Suddenly Pumpkin calls Eddie Gazarra and Connie Rozelli saying she was no longer in New Jersey, but didn't have money for college to study criminology so was enlisting in the Army. They didn't know what to think.

About Valentine's Day Vito Grizolli was having a party at Marcello's. In the middle of the festivities, in walks Stephanie, hair cut short, lean and hard. She walked up to Terri and put down the engagement ring Joe gave her and said, "Here, it's yours now, by the way, it's a fake." She had a picture of the ring on her hand as well as a professional appraisal showing the ring was worth less than $100. Joe had been making a big fuss she should return his very expensive ring. That notion died that night and Joe became the laughing stock of Trenton. Looking at her that night, all present thought the rumors of her being in the Army were true except those of us knew she would still be in basic training, probably in Oklahoma.

Months went by, nobody knew where Stephanie was. Joe and Helen made complete assess of themselves calling the media to Rangeman to search the building convinced she was being held against her will. The big guy, Tank, came out and allowed only me to search. While I searched I talked to the men and realized what high regard they had of my daughter and their fear for her welfare. Nobody knew where she was.

It was late spring when a Rangeman with the tear drop tattoos came up to my cab and told me she had recently moved into the Haywood building, so I went to visit.

She came through the conference room door and I thought how we looked after Special Forces training. She was thinner, at least 20 pounds thinner. Her face was chiseled into hard angles, her hair cut short, and her body muscled. Only her blue eyes remained and they bore into me like cold steel. She referred to me as Mr. Plum, she disavowed her family. How she knew about baby Anthony, I don't know. When I explained Helen went crazy for a while, Pumpkin perfectly nailed it: Helen had been crazy for 33 years punishing her for being the wrong sex.

What she told me next woke me up. First was the abuse from Joseph at six and the rape at 16. I didn't know about them. Helen refused to take her to the hospital for fear of the family or Helen's reputation. Instead she kept her locked up all summer making sure she menstruated on time and wasn't pregnant. Now I understood why she purposely hit that bastard with the Buick two years later, she should have killed him," Frank muttered.

"I was devastated when she told me she was now Michelle, detesting the name her mother and father had given her, and when she earned enough for legal fees she would change her family name so we wouldn't have to be ashamed of her any more.

It then hit me; the broken woman in front of me was destroyed by our abuse. Valerie was the perfect daughter and became her mother's mimic. Valerie was treating her daughters the same way Helen treated hers'; favoring one, abusing the other.

I asked Pumpkin if the rumors were true, she was in or going into the military. She said one of the new Rangeman had just left the service and gave her a pretty grim picture, she was too old to compete against the younger men and woman, but she was keeping the option open for support services.

When I tried to apologize she wouldn't accept it. She said it was time for me to step up and protect my granddaughters since I didn't do it for her. I left your building a broken man but one with rapidly clearing eyesight. The next day I filed for divorce and warned Albert he's better wake up because Valerie was destroying her daughters the way Helen destroyed mine. Helen was drunk as a skunk at our divorce proceedings. After the divorce when the court learned a very drunk Helen was taking care of the girls including baby Lisa while Valerie worked, Albert filed for divorce and custody of Lisa and I got possession of Angie and Mary Alice as well as permission to leave the state. Helen had a lousy attorney and only got the house, I got my pension and savings. Edna had quite a bit of money set aside for her granddaughters and great granddaughters but rewrote her will, took the money and made a major deposit on this house. Angie and Mary Alice are in far better school system, Edna is having the time of her life and I'm a soccer grandfather and proud of it. The girls are blossoming, happier than I've ever seen them. They only thing they want for Christmas is a visit from their Aunt Michelle, not their mother. That says volumes."

"Will they get their wish?"

"Yes, she's coming for a few days, it's a surprise."

Frank got up, went to the water cooler and filled two glasses with water returning with one for Ranger. "It's nearly lunch time, I have a salad already made. Will you join me?"

"Yes sir, thank you."

 **00000000**

They ate in silence mostly. "You still drive those German cars?"

Ranger chuckled, "I guess some things will never change. What are you driving?"

"Buick Enclave. I'm finding sedans are getting to be too low for my knee, jungle injury."

"Yeah, my Turbo is a bit low right now too, same reason."

"Carlos, why do you use the name Ranger?"

"Street name when I got out. I was doing bail bonds. Ranger sounded fiercer than Carlos."

"How long were you in service? Frank asked.

"I was in the Army 6 years, officer, Ranger. Four continents, one shit hole after another. My company was good, one platoon within the company was exceptional even for Rangers. As a result we got tagged for the worst of the worst. I loved living on the edge, not knowing if I'd be dead before day's end. You know how it eats you, though."

Frank nodded.

"I got out after 6 years but not clean. My elite platoon and I continued working, contracts for various agencies who would disavow me in a second if I got caught. The money was great. I was able with some of my best men to set up Rangeman Security in Trenton. The company was to give my men a job after service while I continued contract work. As we grew, we took in other returning servicemen, especially Special Forces with the training we needed. We also took in gang members and convicts who wanted new starts so your wife, ex-wife, wasn't too far off. We have Rangeman in several cities; Miami, Atlanta, Boston, and Trenton. All doing very well.

I was preparing to leave Trenton and move to Miami to finalize this office when I met your daughter. Since I was still doing contract work, never knowing if I'd live through them and making enemies who could come back on me, I was not a good candidate for a relationship let alone marriage. I was such an ass, I fell in love with her almost immediately but kept pushing her back to Joe thinking she'd be better off with him."

"You saved her life," Frank muttered.

"More times than you know, sir. Joe was never there, only after to yell and chastise her. Maybe that's another reason I stayed, to protect her from Joe. About 14 months ago I got word that one of my enemies had resurfaced. We had tried to take him down ten years ago, but failed. In return he killed my commanding officer, his wife, 2 children and in-laws in Missouri. I had to kill him before he came after me, the rest of the team and maybe Stephanie. That's when I left her and Trenton. He had to be stopped. He's been eliminated, but we came back badly bloodied. I've spent the last 7 months in rehab. I was dead inside, Stephanie was gone to Joe and I saw no reason to continue living, except for my 13 year old daughter who pulled me through.

"Your daughter?"

"One night stand after Ranger school. I married the mother to give the child a birth certificate with both parents' name, though I'd never be a part of their lives. I figured I'd be killed within a year. When the baby came I'd divorced the mother as she was in love with another man. The mother and husband have been raising her. She was safer with them than carrying the name Manoso, just like Stephanie."

Ranger got up from the table and went to the same back door looking at the small back yard of dichondra and a few shrubs. "I thought I was leaving Stephanie in better hands. I was hoping being married to Joe, the bastard looking for me wouldn't know about her. Once again I hurt her. No wonder she was so cool to me in Atlanta."

"Ranger, she's changed. Yes, Christmas Eve my daughter Stephanie finally broke down. I don't know how badly, your men won't say. I understand they had to take her someplace. She returned, reborn. She's hardened up physically, mentally, it's like she went through Special Forces training. She's out from under her mother's grindstone, maturing, and coming to grips with life. We have a ways to go to patch up our relationship, but her coming for Christmas is a first step."

Ranger looked off, "I hope I can find something with her again as well. I've been so wrapped up in myself…"

"From what I saw in Trenton, your crew is taking good care of her. If I were you, I'd be afraid she'll fall for one of them."

Ranger turned and looked at Frank, "She says she's remaining celibate until she gets her head straightened around."

"And the men respect that?"

"Contrary to your ex-wife's and Morelli's opinion of Rangeman, the company operates with strict rules of behavior. Tank maintains order on the mats."

Frank looked skeptical, "Even the guy with the tattoos under his eye?"

"He's gay."

"Are you sure? He obviously loves her."

"Yes he does." Ranger was silent for a long time. "He lost a sister years ago. Babe reminds him of her."

"Carlos, advice for someone who is also bogged down in this quagmire, if you dare take it; start slow, you both are hurting. Start your relationship over, anew. See if there's a small cinder that can be nurtured back into flame."

 **00000000**

Frank and Ranger lost track of the time. They compared experiences at Ft. Benning, weapons, deployments, and other stuff military men talk to one another in private.

"The girls will be home soon. If you want to beat the traffic, you probably want to leave now," Frank said.

Ranger nodded no, "I'm staying in town."

"Then why don't you stay for dinner? I know Edna would love to see you and the girls too."

"Does Edna still have the fastest hands on the East Coast?"

Frank laughed out loud, "Oh yeah. She's been reprimanded more than once at the senior centers by the staff, male staff."

"As long as she has her eyes, men are in danger," Ranger chuckled.

"And her hands," Frank smiled.

As they started walking to Ranger's car the school bus stopped in front of the house. The Angie and Mary Alice stepped off and glanced at Ranger, then did a double take.

"Ranger?" Mary Alice asked.

Ranger nodded slightly and that's all it took, Mary Alice and Angie rushed to him and embraced him. "Did you bring Aunt Michelle with you?"

Ranger froze, he had never touched or been touched by these two girls yet here they were wrapped around his waist. Frank walked up, "Girls, girls, Mr. Manoso is here by himself."

Mary Alice pulled back, "You came to see grandpa?"

Ranger nodded. He was used to his daughter's touch but not other childrens'.

"How did you know he was here?" Angie asked.

"I saw all of you in Big Blue in Miami," he replied.

Angie thought for a moment, "Do you live in Miami?"

"Yes, Rangeman has offices there." He couldn't remember the girls' names.

Frank interceded, "Angie, Mary Alice go in and change into play clothes, please."

"Are you staying for dinner? Grandpa makes a vegetable lasagna. It's good," Mary Alice stated with conviction. "We never ate vegetables in Trenton."

Frank said, "You haven't said yes or no to my invitation for dinner."

Ranger looked down at the two girls wrapped around his waist, "Yes, Frank I'd love to eat with your family."

"Yeah," the girls squealed and ran off to the house.

Ranger watched them run up the driveway into the house, "They seem happy."

"They really are. Edna and I explained Helen was sick and Valerie stayed behind to take care of her. They never really bonded with Albert. Their lives were not happy after they left California. I'm still learning about their unhappiness and fears in Trenton," he shook his head. "I'm so grateful for Edna, she's helping all of us."

"How old is Edna?"

"Eighty two going on sixteen." he chuckled. "Trenton was killing me and it prematurely aged Edna. The best thing that could happen was her moving down here," he said as they walked into the house. "She's wanted to move here for years but Helen wouldn't hear of it."

Frank walked into the kitchen, "The lasagna is already put together, it just needs to be cooked through. Once a week I allow myself a beer, will you join me?"

"Yes sir, that sounds good."

"If I'm to call you Carlos, please call me Frank."

 **00000000**

Ranger sat in the living room and was immediately surrounded by the girls dressed in capris and colorful tee-shirts. "Have you been to Trenton?" they asked.

"No, not for over a year," he stated without emotion.

Angie got a sour look, "I don't miss it at all except for Aunt….Michelle. You know she changed her name from Stephanie."

"Yes."

"Something happened to her. My friends at school told me she went into the Army but grandpa said no. Do you know why she changed her name?"

"No, it happened after I left."

"Have you seen her?" Mary Alice asked as she snuggled against Ranger.

"I saw her in Atlanta about a week ago. She was in a competition and she did very well."

Angie looked confused. "What type of competition?"

Frank brought the beer in bottles and handed one to Ranger then sat down.

"She works for Rangeman. Every year members for all four offices; Miami, Trenton, Boston and Atlanta get together and compete against one another. Your Aunt Michelle came in second in the agility course and did well in other events."

"What other events?" Mary Alice asked.

"Swimming and she is quite the marksman," Ranger laughed.

Frank looked up surprised.

"You mean guns? Aunt Steph…..Michelle hates guns," Angie gasped.

"She was trained properly and while doesn't love them she is a very good markswoman. It takes excellent hand and eye coordination something she may have inherited from her father."

Angie looked at her grandfather, "Can you shoot a gun?"

"Yes Angie, I was trained in the Army."

"I'm glad she never married Joe. He was a jerk," Mary Alice muttered.

"MA"…..Frank cautioned.

"He was mean to Aunt Stephanie and he didn't like us. He'd yell at us too."

Frank had another look at the girls' lives in Trenton.

Angie cut in, "Friends at school used to talk about her and how she captured bad guys but Joe would yell at her and flap his arms around like a chicken."

At that moment the front door opened and in stepped Edna, " _Rick-eee, I'm home,_ " she laughed. The girls jumped up, "GG Edna, look who is visiting."

It was a contest who was more surprised. Ranger stood and stared at what couldn't possibly be Edna Mazur. Her hair was straight, silvery grey, cut in a bob, not permed into sausage curls. While her face was still wrinkled, the makeup was higher quality and a better match for her skin tone. She was still slight, skinny and wearing, as usual, a pastel pant suit, but it was Florida casual. "Edna?" Ranger questioned.

"Ranger?" Edna looked around, "Are you here alone?"

Ranger nodded knowing exactly what she was asking.

She put her purse on a console table near the door and moved into the living room. She indicated she'd hug him but Ranger grabbed her hands, "No pinches on the first date."

"How did you find us?" Edna asked.

"He saw us in Miami in Big Blue," Angie said.

"Who knew my husband Karl's car would be worth so much? It alone was 30% of the purchase price of this home," she said with pride.

Ranger did some quick math and estimated Edna got around $80,000 for Big Blue. He looked at Frank with a raised eye. Frank nodded.

"Your husband is still taking care of you Edna."

"He's taking care of all of us," she agreed.

Ranger had a delightful dinner with Frank Plum and family. He was surprised how relaxed he was when he left unlike previous Plum dinners in Trenton. The girls gave him a hugs, Edna was allowed one light pinch when he explained he still had nerve damage from his "fall," and Frank shook hands, "Thank you for staying for dinner. It meant a lot to all of us."

"Ranger, come back soon," Mary Alice called as he slipped into his car.

"I plan on it," he muttered to himself.

On his way to his hotel he couldn't remember ever enjoying a visit with the Plums. He thought Babe was the oddity in the family but he realized the family oozed love once they were away from Helen and Trenton.

In his hotel suite he poured himself a scotch and sat down on the couch staring out the window at the darkening sky. He tried to blame himself for Stephanie's destruction but he couldn't, not totally. He had to leave her; maybe he was wrong for not telling her why, but that would have muddied the separation. When word came back that he had been killed, her grief would have been dampened by her anger at him for leaving without a word.

Why did she keep going back to Joe? She didn't know happiness. She didn't know acceptance. All her life she had been controlled, dominated by a woman who resented her even being alive. Even the most abused go crawling back to their abuser seeking love or just acceptance. Stephanie was always leery of Joe as husband material and her spidey sense was right, yet her mother kept pushing him back in her face. Was he, Ranger, like Joe, an abuser? He knew she loved him, but like Joe, he abused her with excuses; not marriage material, life is too dangerous, condoms not rings. Whose abuse was worse: Joe with the constant denigration, the Italian emotional outbursts or his own playful sexual encounters either in the alley and stolen kisses or on the 7th floor?

As for telling Rangeman to ignore her, once again it was his way of ending the entire relationship. Joe would make her stop being a BA and Rangeman protection wouldn't be necessary. Apparently the men on Haywood had more sense than he. He was always surprised how much the men liked, or even adored her.

He swired the brown liquid around the glass releasing the aroma. Is she still the woman he loved? Those precious minutes in Atlanta, the kiss sure felt like Stephanie but the outward appearance and the mental attitude were…Mitch. He saw The Deacon's expression when she came in from the agility course, he was infatuated. Had she shown a softer side to him but kept herself closed off from him?

Damn, he wanted to throw his liquor glass across the room! She needed someone who was 100% devoted to her. Too damn bad Hector was gay. Maybe he should leave her totally alone to find her own way, her own love. But what about his needs, his wants, when does he get his turn? He has fought for this country, bled, watched friends die, gave his daughter up to be raised by another man, eschewed a love life for himself to do his duty. If his mercenary days are truly over could he love totally or is he irreparably damaged? She was all he ever loved. She was his life, the one who kept him alive for the last year.

Speculation never solved anything. _What if's_ were fantasy. He needed to go to Trenton.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **"** **Mitch** report to Conference room 2 **,"** came the voice through the speakers in the gym.

She knew the security monitor had her in sight, so she gave a brief wave indicating she received the message and powered down the treadmill. There was no indication of "hurry up," "now," or "Stat," it was understood. She grabbed a sweat towel and hurried down the stairs.

Tank, Charlie, Junior and Jamie were already there along with Hal. It didn't take her long to figure there was a major FTA takedown in the works.

"Who and where?" she asked as she flopped down next to Charlie.

Junior chuckled, "Mitch cuts to the chase."

Hal gave a brief smile and began, **"** We've got a fire sale, three for one; all members of the Marbella gang: Diego Herman Hernandez, Jose Castor Paniagua and your friend Mitch, Silas Rodriego Murphy."

"From the Marigold bar?" she asked.

Hal nodded, "Two have had their bonds revoked and the third is FTA."

"What's the bond total on these losers?" Jamie asked.

"$675,000"

"Ouch," Charlie winced. "They need to be tucked back in."

"Word is they double dog dared us to come get them," Hal sighed.

Mitch gasped, "In the Marigold?"

"Yeah and I bet they have a reception party waiting. No more little old lady coming in the door, Mitch."

"Why are we hitting them at the Marigold?" Mitch asked. "They can't stay there all the time. We pick them off as available. They probably have sex buddies they visit from time to time."

"I bet Carmen Florez is one," Junior mumbled.

Nobody asked how he knew.

"Hector might know Paniagua's choice as he's an alternate player," Hal replied.

Michelle pulled out her cell phone and texted Hector. Within a few minutes she had her answer, "The man in the basement reports: Roberto G., short for Gonzales, aka _the Scum."_

Hal, Junior and Jamie shook their heads.

"I take it you know him?" Mitch asked.

"Male prostitute, big, mean and well-armed, deals in…everything. We've picked him up over the years. He was too high a bond for you to collect."

"So instead of storming the Marigold's bastions we are going to wait for a booty call?" Charlie asked.

"How long do we have Hal?" Junior asked.

Hal flipped through the pages, "Five to seven days."

Mitch shook her head, "Either they have "taken to the mattresses" in the Marigold waiting…"

Junior chuckled, "Godfather reference?"

Mitch shot him a wink, "…or they have alternate exits; basement or attic to adjoining units. Don't forget the sewer."

Junior scrunched his nose, "I'd rather forget it."

Jamie punched him in the arm, "Just another shit hole, this time the Marines aren't ordering you there."

"We need a map of the sewer system, there may be an entry other than street manholes," Hal added.

"Carmen's not particular, but she might draw the line at sewer smell," Junior mused.

Once again Mitch was curios how Junior knew. "You seem to know about Carmen, is she a friend of yours?"

Junior shivered in disgust.

"I bet the Scum Gonzales doesn't care about the smell," Jamie muttered.

This time everyone shivered in disgust.

Hal broke in, "Guys, this is getting too out of bounds. What we need is an IR camera to see if the attic is holding more than rats and squirrels."

"What about the basement?"

"IR can't get through the stone foundation, only the stairs leading down. We'd have to be lucky, correct angle and time. IR equipment eats through battery power quickly. We could miss them as batteries are changed," Hal answered.

"Could we put sensors to notify if something larger than a rat moves through the sewer towards the bootie pads or moves manhole covers?" Mitch asked. "I really don't want to go storming into the Marigold."

"You'd rather storm through the sewers?" Junior asked.

"We need Hector."

"Why is it Hector gets the nasty jobs?" she asked.

"Because he is tougher than all of us combined," Jamie uttered.

 **00000000**

Rangeman has an arsenal of pseudo municipal magnetic signs to slap against vans mimicking city services. There's also an array of safety equipment including ventilation equipment to keep the men, usually Hector and another team member, safe in the toxic gassy environments of sewers.

With motion detectors in place that would respond to something larger than 75 pounds and displacement sensors on nearby manholes, the sewer angle was covered. Occasional IR surveillance didn't show activity in Marigold's attic initially, but did show multiple men moving up and down the basement stairs. No doubt the liquor storage was down stairs, but the Marigold didn't do the business to justify that many trips to the store room. Additionally the bar received regular deliveries, too many deliveries. Something else was going on.

During one brief basement stair Infra-Red camera sweep Junior caught sight of a man coming up the stairs handing someone a rifle. "Oh damn," he muttered. He then watched the man continue up to the attic. "Mattresses, Mitch got it."

Two days later the Rangeman bond apprehension agents met again. Hal had pictures. "OK, we've spotted more than one rifle coming out of the basement. I don't want to do the apprehension in the bar if possible. IR is picking up someone in the attic; probably a shooter at the window. There are two of them, trading shifts, covering 24.

"How many windows?"

"One out the back. Plus there are two shooters across the street and the alarm system is top notch." Hal continued, "Hector has his minions are watching for our three losers around Stark Street plus we do have activity in the sewer from time to time. Most of the movement occurs after 02:00 when the bar closes. We ID the rats as they emerge. If they are our guys, nab them. Good call on the sewer Mitch."

Hal continued, "Mitch I want you and Charlie in the alley outside of Carmen Florez' apartment. Disguise yourself like a hooker. Charlie will be your John if people come near, get cozy with each other. We'll put someone else at the alley's other end.

Gonzales' apartment is several blocks from Carmen's but on the same sewer line. We'll have eyes there as well. If we can get all three in the same night, great, otherwise we'll go fishing another night."

Mitch got properly slutted up complete with a long black wig, high heel, shorts and tank top covering a ballistic vest. She had a sweater thrown over her shoulders to lessen the visual impact of the vest. Charlie was in jeans, ballistic vest covered by a hoodie,

"Ah, Charlie, let me apologize for what might happen tonight," Mitch said.

"What do you mean?"

"I may have to make this look real, otherwise nobody is going to believe I'm a working girl," she said almost shyly.

"Mitch, you are wearing a ballistic vest, I'm not going to feel anything and I promise to keep my hands high, probably holding your wig in place," he smiled.

"But there will be rubbing and kissing. It could get….uncomfortable for you."

"You think I should wear a cup?" he laughed.

Michelle, not Mitch, blushed. "I'm just saying, no tongue."

"I would have to tell Margie," Charlie kidded.

Michelle blushed. Charlie's wife Margie has become a good friend and Mitch/Michelle eagerly volunteered for the couple when they wanted adult time away from their daughter Becky.

Charlie was surprised; Mitch had never shown much of her feminine side, never a blush. Apparently Michelle was peeking out.

Carmen Florez' apartment was only accessible through a short alley. The far end was guarded by a "drunk," Binkie from Rangman who could roll himself up into a small ball and appear passed out. The street end was watched by Mitch and Charlie.

Meanwhile Junior and Jason were in the shadows by Roberto Gonzales' place. The apartment looked out over an alley giving the Rangeman men multiple hiding places. The nearest sewer manhole cover was at the end of the alley in the street. It was a quiet street.

Hector was just blocks away monitoring sewer traffic.

 _"_ _Hay una gran rata en movimiento"_ (There's a big rat on the move) Hector reported.

After a few minutes he reported, "Carmen's."

Mitch and Charlie were already deeply concealed in the shadows but with Hector's message, they froze, not moving a muscle. A man came from the sidewalk and inserted the rod to remove the manhole cover. Quickly dragging the lid to the side, he stepped back, allowed another man carrying a box to emerge, then reset the lid and disappeared back through a door.

Mitch spoke into her microphone, "We have a spotter at the manhole. We need someone to keep his eyes busy."

 _"_ _Bueno_ ," came Hector's voice. Within a minute a black vehicle pulled to the curb near the manhole cover and parked and Hector got and began walking away from Charlie and Mitch giving them a chance to slip into Carmen's alley unseen. Charlie grabbed Mitch pushed her against the wall and Mitch responded by wrapping one leg around Charlie. At that moment a somewhat odiferous man entered the alley, saw the hooker and John and continued walking to Carmen's door.

"Hernandez," Mitch whispered. Charlie spun around and in four long strides had Hernandez down on the ground and cuffed. "Bond Enforcement," Charlie whispered. Mitch came over shining a bright light into Hernandez' eyes to blind him, Charlie slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth and pulled out a black cap and pulled it down over Herhandez's eyes. Mitch read the label on the dropped box and stuck her thumb up, " _Maravilla_." (marigold) Mitch stepped away and quietly spoke into her microphone, "Transport Hernandez."

Hernandez was escorted to the street just as another big black vehicle rolled up and two Rangeman men jumped out, grabbed Hernandez and secured him in the back seat, first removing his sewer stinking boots and tossing them aside. The box Hernandez was carrying was lifted with gloved hands and put in the vehicle's rear compartment and locked.

Charlie and Mitch watched the vehicle drive off when they heard a door open behind them; Carmen's apartment.

They quickly returned to their previous location and position. Silas Murphy glanced at the couple in a sexual clutch and chuckled and turned away. This time though Silas saw Hernandez' boots nearby and sensed something was amiss. He had a knife drawn when Charlie grabbed him. Silas whipped his knife across Charlie's chest. The ballistics vest did its job, deflecting the knife. Charlie grabbed the knife hand with his left while punching Silas in the throat. The knife was dropped and Mitch moved in, kicked Silas's knee while grapping the other hand. Silas' knee moved laterally in an unintended direction. Mitch grabbed Silas's right hand and had both cuffed while crumbled to the ground gasping for air.

"Transport #2, Silas, same location."

This time Hector arrived with the vehicle. Bink the "drunk" at the other end of the alley was with him. They secured Silas.

Mitch and Charlie walked away. Neither had worked up much sweat in the takedowns, but Mitch's neck was itching. She blamed it on the sweater and removed it wrapping it around her waist.

Carlos Manoso emerged from the shadows. He had mixed feelings; he was proud how well the takedowns had occurred, Mitch and her partner worked well together. Yet he wondered if she was now too professional, too hardened and lost the Babe in her.

 **00000000**

There was yet another fugitive on the loose, Paniagua. Manny was monitoring the sewer while Hector took Silas Murphy to TPD reported new activity in the sewer, this time heading towards Robert Gonzales', the male prostitute's apartment.

"We have another rat, this time heading beyond Carmen's, possibly the Scum's location."

Junior and Jamie were already on site. Lester and Bobby had been on stand by and hurried to back up Junior and Jason. Paniagua emerged from the sewer several blocks away and actually cut across the street about a block ahead of Lester and Bobby. They were too far away to nab him, instead notifying Junior and Jamie their quarry was on his way. "Bread and water on the way" Lester told Junior and Jamie. When sufficiently past, Les and Bobby quietly exited their vehicle and followed.

"Target entering the building," Junior whispered. "Light on in the apartment."

Tank was following the action at Rangeman, "Patrol Unit 2, back up at Silas'."

Eric and Cal acknowledged the order. Six Rangeman may seem excessive but everyone knew they were lucky with the first two take downs, a third would be a blessing given Roberto Silas' record.

The Rangeman waited for Eric and Cal to arrive and everyone was in position. Paniagua was probably enjoying himself now.

Junior and Jamie quietly started up the stairs. The odor of sewer was ripe, Paniagua's boots were outside the door. The hall also had the sharp smell of weed. Somebody or multiple bodies were getting mellow. The noise coming from inside Silas' door was one man moaning either in pain or ectasy, another grunting. Junior carefully turned the door handle, it was unlocked and pushed the door open slightly. It was a male three way, all three men were naked.

"Bond Enforcement, hands up," Junior hollered. Gonzales backed away from the table, but instead of putting his hands up, he ducked and came up with a gun and fired off a wild shot. Junior's response was center mass on Gonzales. Paniagua stopped in mid hump and raised his hands in surrender. Jamie went in and quickly checked for additional weapons and began to handcuff Paniagua and pulling him away from the table. Table man remained still, "Hands away from your body," Junior commanded. The customer complied.

Lester and Bobby came up the stairs into the room and noted Gonzales was on the floor with a chest wound. There was a naked man on the table as yet unsecured and Jamie had Paniagua secured.

Jamie had already called in for TPD team and an ambulance. Bobby didn't have his med pack with him so grabbed a discarded shirt on the floor and applied it to Gonzales' chest to stem, or at least contain the bleeding.

Lester went to the man still face down on the table, "I'm securing your hands for our safety, you are not being taken into custody."

The man groaned, "I'm really fucked."

Lester wanted to laugh but only smiled. The smell of weed was strong and no doubt this customer was mellow.

TPD officers Gazzara and Big Dog were the first on the scene of three naked men. Junior had already set his weapon aside as it would be used in the investigation; the second gun, used by Gonzales was on the floor, untouched.

Big Dog went to the now secured man on the table and lifted him up to his feet. It was officer Joe Morelli, "Any chance you'll cut me loose? I was just a customer." For a brief moment Big Dog had a smattering of compassion for a stoned Morelli but then he spotted the syringe and spoon on a nearby table.

The EMTs arrived and started treating Gonzales. Meanwhile a call went out to TPD's duty sergeant to ask about Morelli. The sergeant swore, "I'm on my way."

Cal was in the hall and quietly called Hal, "There was a customer already in Gonzales' before Paniagua got here. It's Morelli."

"Who got shot and who pulled the trigger?" Hal asked.

"Gonzales fired first, Junior returned fire. Morelli is high, higher than simple weed."

"Paniagua?"

"In custody."

Hal hung up and called Tank who was monitoring police band back at Rangeman.

"Report," Tank barked.

Hal filled him in. "I assume statements will be taken so you'll be short patrol for an hour," Hal added. "I'm at TPD, they are waiting for a detective to open the box Hernandez was carrying."

 **00000000**

Detective Mitchell was called and he escorted Hank and Hal from Rangman out to the Rangeman vehicle. Hank handed the detective the key to unlock the compartment, "It's been secure, light weight."

Detective Mitchell donned gloves and carried the box to an open area in the parking lot and called someone narcotics. While he waited he photographed the shipping label with the Marold bar address.

Rex, the drug dog took one sniff and sat with glee indicating the package's content would earn him play time with his favorite toy and his handler's admiration. Anton the narcotic cop chuckled, "Now that's a happy dog."

The box was opened to reveal a kilo of heroin. "

"Damn," Anton swore. "This is gives 'baggie' a new meaning." Turning to the dog, "Rex, you earned your kibble this week."

The dog patiently waited for his toy.

 **00000000**

Mitch and Charlie had just exited the stairs onto the Rangeman's fifth floor when the Gonzales shooting occurred. Tank was busy directing new patrols to cover the city as two were tied up at the shooting. Mitch went to her cubicle and began removing her ballistic vests, weapon, just getting comfortable. She could not hear the action at the control center.

She had drank a bottle of water and was jotting notes down on her computer for a full report when Charlie came in.

"Tank needs to see you, now."

Mitch didn't ask what, she just got up, stretched a bit and noticed dawn was starting to lighten the sky. Long day. Tank had had his granite face on, she had come to realize this indicated something important. She feared one of the Rangeman men had been injured or killed. Her stomach clenched and a tiny prayer escaped her lips, "Please not one of the Merry Men."

Tank took her to his office and shut the door. Now she was really worried.

"Who?" was all she could say.

Tank wasn't sure how she'd take the news. "Not one of us. Morelli was a customer of Gonzales'. Gonzales fired on Junior, Junior returned fire hitting Gonzales. Joe was uninjured but apparently high as a kite."

Mitch stood for a long time, gathering her thoughts; Joe with a male prostitute, Joe on drugs. Her emotions were absent. She had long ago buried Joe Morelli as the obscenity from her past. She had tried to blame on her old persona, Stephanie, for the disintegration of their relationship but with Tank's help and the Rangeman counselor she saw all summer and fall; she no longer felt responsibility for the dysfunctional life. Joe's drinking was on him, not Stephanie. His abuse was on him, not Stephanie. She had not provoked his abuse after the engagement, she become docile, losing her fiery temper that had kept them constantly breaking up and coming back together, yet still he was abusive. When it came to Joe Morelli, there was nothing inside her any more.

"Tank, it means nothing to me. I'm glad no Rangeman was injured. As for Morelli…..he's been dead to me for quite a while."

"I'm telling you Mitch because there will be talk," Tank replied.

"I can't imagine Stephanie Plum is much on the Burg's lips anymore."

"This might renew it for a while. If you want, move into the satellite in Princeton for a while. Hal will keep you of bonds for a while."

She returned to her office, picked up her equipment and returned to her apartment on the forth floor. The report could wait until she showered and had a few hours' sleep. Then tomorrow she'll move to Princeton.

 **00000000**

Hal and Rangeman Bonds had their fugitives; it was now up to Trenton Police, ATF and DEA what they were going to do about the Marigold with the evidence Rangeman had obtained. Hal had other priorities, "Hector, get those sensors out of the sewers and set a few outside the manholes so we have plausible evidence. We don't want the city upset we invaded their sewers."

TPD moved into high gear. A kilo of smack with a Marigold bar mailing label was enough to obtain a warrant. Inside the bar they found the basement held more than booze; weapons, explosives and drugs. AFT and DEA were ecstatic. A further search of Gonzales' apartment found weapons from the Marigold cache and several thousand dollars' worth of heroin. Joe Morelli tested positive for Woo-Woo, heroin and marijuana. He was fired from TPD instantly. TPD cops when asked about Joe's firing only remarked, "Good riddance." A few blamed Stephanie Plum for Joe's fall, but they mostly were named Morelli, Helen Mazur or Valerie Plum formerly Kloughn.

For her part in the bond apprehension, Mitch's check was sizeable. She put all the money, as she had all bond apprehension money, into accounts for her nieces Angie and Mary Alice. She had perfected lean living over the years as a bounty hunter. She was doing fine on Rangeman salary and didn't need the bond money.

A/N: Michelle and Ranger start to talk next chapter.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **Excuse the delay, FF is playing hide the browser...they won't accept my usual and make me use something else, grrr.**

Michelle finished her morning workout. Gentle Ben, another oversized Rangeman employee and she finished their 10 mile run at the 5 mile mark, the sleet make the roads dangerous and their clothing soaked. Princeton was quickly becoming an ice paradise. Her first appointment wasn't until 10:00 a.m., perhaps the weather would improve before then. Turning the warm shower water off, she began drying off. Tending her hair took only moments unlike the 20 plus minutes it too when her hair was long. She looked in the mirror as she applied restrained make-up that enhanced her looks instead of giving her false courage behind mascara layers. Hesitating, she stared at the image in front of her. "Who are you?" she silently asked. "Are you Mitch the Bitch or Michelle NoLastName or are you Stephanie Plum? The uncertainty was unsettling.

The mental discussion continued through the dressing and into the kitchen for breakfast; a fruit and vegetable smoothie. Moving to the table away from her laptop and papers, she didn't need to ruin another computer through food contamination; she still hadn't resolved the identity issue. Why?

The question and answer were brewing since Atlanta when she met Ranger. After the meltdown, while others prayed before bed, she talked to Ranger. Mainly it was to ask forgiveness for the years of bouncing between him and Joe. Eventually she added asking for his forgiveness for listening to her mother, what wasted years!

"Damn," she swore out loud. Looking at her reflection she asked, "Was I talking to Ranger while I was with Joe before the Christmas travesty?" Was that why…no! Mitch the Bitch arose, "What does it matter? It's over, gone, _finito._ Your life is so much better now than it was as Stephanie. Cut the cr*p."

Mitch loathed Stephanie for her indecisiveness, emotional confusion, laziness, and stubbornness, yet it was Stephanie that loved Ranger. Mitch the Bitch was the Anti-Stephanie Plum; clear thinking, decisive, emotionally controlled, wrapped up in boundless energy. Michelle was the woman somewhere between the two and would have to deal with the past, Ricardo Carlos Manoso as well as the future and any future personas that may occur; business woman, wife, mother, caregiver to her family both by blood and her Rangeman family.

She was now seeing the world through woman's eyes, not through the Burg's distortion. Mitch was her armor while she healed. Much to her surprise, the men at Rangeman were not offended by Mitch. Not one of the men had made sexual innuendos towards her. Did Tank give a warning or did they understand what she needed, time out to rebuild. They were her friends unlike any she had ever had before. They were now associates, team members and she was expected to pull her own weight.

She had remained celibate, it was emotionally enlightening plus she didn't want, or at least wasn't ready for a husband and family. Thanks to Tank's gentle morality coaching, she had gotten her libido under control. She smiled remembering her early instructions from Tank back in Maine, _"Plum we are not going to have sex. You are here to be trained not to copulate. For the next 8 weeks there will be no fucking around and I mean that literally. At the end of training, you can reestablish your birth control."_ It was harsh back then and funny now. In early fall Bobby had insisted she resume birth control, "Things can change quickly." Was he seeing something in her she hadn't yet seen? Or did he know more about Ranger? After all, six weeks later was Rangemaninja.

 **00000000**

Ranger had been in Newark for a week. He had followed the happenings in Trenton from afar and was happy to see the name Stephanie Plum did not make the newspaper.

He and his father sat out on the enclosed back porch wrapped in winter jackets and hats. His father smoked cigars and kept the smell outside as much as possible. Today he and his son were Havana cigars from Havana, Ranger had a contraband source.

"Son, what are you going to do now?" his father asked.

"Papa, for the first time in 15 years I don't know. I'm empty. Rangeman is running well, men and women coming out of service are finding their ways back into society."

"Except for you, you are lost, it is in your eyes," his father said kindly.

"I've lost my edge, I don't know who I am," Ranger said as his eyes skimmed over the back yard, always vigilant.

"Have you talked to counselors?"

"Yes, several; we talk about transitions from service to nonservice, setting new goals," Ranger shrugged. It was the same tripe with each counselor. None could help him with his deeper problem.

"I take it you haven't set new goals."

"Papa, I'm still carrying a lot of guilt over what I've done."

"Warfare and the unreasonable demands we make of our men and now women…"

"Yeah, I know all that, I'm talking about my personal life."

His father puffed on his cigar, "Finally."

Ranger jerked his head sideways, it still caused a bit of pain. "What?! What do you mean _finally_?"

"Son, you have the amazing ability to prioritize your work; Army, Rangeman, and such; but are horrible in your personal life."

Ranger blew out the cigar's smoke, "I never wanted a personal life. I am…or was…an elite soldier and needed to concentrate on being the best."

"And probably assumed you'd die in combat…"

Ranger shot his father a look.

His father continued, "But you ended up with two women in your life, Julie and Stephanie."

Ranger was going to interrupt, but didn't get the chance.

"Julie is your daughter. No, she wasn't planned, but you did the honorable thing by marrying Rachael, giving Julie a name and then releasing Rachael to find love. What you didn't expect is Julie is you; smart both in intelligence and awareness. She also possesses the same single minded drive you have. You did not raise her but yet she is you. Says something about DNA doesn't it?"

Ranger was quiet for a while then quietly spoke, "She saved my life."

"And you saved hers years ago with the Scrog kidnapping," Mr. Manoso reminded his son.

Ranger shook his head, "No it was Julie that saved my life then too."

Ranger's father nodded, "Back then and recently, both times she's done it by using that same single minded drive and intelligence. This last time she knocked you out of your depression."

"Depression?" Ranger asked.

"Survivor's guilt though you didn't lose a man on the mission, self loathing, worthlessness, guilt, fear, and a host of others. I'm putting them all together into depression. I'm not a doctor of course." He puffed some more. "She still needs her father, the one who understands her moods, her drives. Ron tries, but….Julie is you."

"And I need her; I wish I had spent more time with her."

I'm glad you didn't. You were too wrapped up in yourself to give her what she needed at the time. Ron and Rachael have supported her, but they've never understood her. You do. You showed her how to be strong, think for herself. Now that she's an adolescent, she could think herself into trouble the way you did."

Mr. Manoso flicked the ash from the cigar and paused, aligning his thoughts. "Your mother and I failed you; we were wrapped up in the others and the business. You alone needed more than we could give, but being one of six, small, picked on by others, you got lost. I couldn't fight your fights, but I could have been more supportive."

Ranger thought of his being away from Julie for long periods. How was he supportive?

"If a person is not loved or acknowledged for their accomplishments, respected as an individual, they quit trying or go off to where they are respected. For you it was gangs were you found trouble. You were saved twice; your _abuela_ could give you total attention and love, keeping you from self-destructing. The second was the Army. They straightened your head, taught you responsibility, how to apply yourself and devote yourself to a cause.

I'm not saying Julie is heading towards trouble, but you need to be there, like your _abuela_ was there for you, if she needs help.

Suddenly Ranger wasn't thinking about Julie but about Stephanie. She was like he was, lost without support. She didn't fall to gangs, she tried to assert herself by becoming a bond apprehension agent and he was the only one who supported her…and then he didn't. Of course she shattered. Now she has the support from her fellow Rangeman, but does she have love?

His father continued, "Right now you may think of yourself as unlovable for what you did in the military? What twenty-six year old man so cares for his men that he formulates a plan to begin a company to provide a transition from the military to civilian life?"

Ranger just shrugged as if to say, "Of course I had to do that, care for my men."

"Now about Stephanie, where is she?" his father asked. "Did she marry the cop?"

Ranger put his head in his hands and whispered, "No."

Patiently his father waited. He could feel the emotional pain rolling off his son. When Carlos didn't speak for a while his father feared Stephanie was dead. "Guzman?"

Ranger's head snapped up. "What do you know?"

His father put his cigar down and began. "You had already left. Pierre sent us, to Charleston for Christmas. The Atlanta Rangeman put us all in a lovely estate and explained you were doing something dangerous and if you failed, we'd be in danger. The CEO down there, the big guy that looks like the actor, explained as much as he could and mentioned the name Guzman. When your team was extricated and Guzman and his family were confirmed dead, we returned home."

"I didn't know."

"No, your mother wasn't going to tell you as she sat beside your bed in the hospital week after week. She was crushed when you wouldn't come home to Newark to rehabilitate. She suspected it had to do with Stephanie."

Ranger threw his head back and chuckled, "People say I'm psychic, I actually inherited it."

"No, you talk a lot in your sleep," his father chuckled. "You were crying out for Stephanie, begging her forgiveness. So what happened between you and Stephanie?"

Ranger went on to tell his father about lying to Morelli, forcing him to step up and propose. Ranger was crushed but felt she was in safe hands. But his plans didn't work; Morelli wasn't her protector, he became her abuser. Ranger explained the Christmas travesty ending with the only refuge she had, her apartment, burning to the ground and her mental melt down. "Apparently Pierre took her someplace safe and worked with her until she could return to Haywood Street. He and the others worked with her, building her back up mentally and physically. A few weeks ago she was at the Rangeman competitions in Atlanta. I hardly recognized her. She has become fit, super fit, cut her hair, walks and speaks with authority. She changed her name to her middle name and even goes by the nickname Mitch to impress herself and others with her hardening…it's the only word I can come up with to describe the change. She doesn't want people to remember her as Stephanie."

"Did you talk with her," his father asked.

"Briefly."

"Did she push you away?"

Ranger didn't know how to answer. "No, she didn't walk away from me but she's changed. She said she finally understood…understood why I was the way I was."

His father laughed out loud, "Carlos, you don't even understand why you are and the way you are, but she does. Typical. A mature, strong woman has incredible insight….I'm married to one. We men would do better if we listened more."

Ranger stared into the backyard for a while. "Last week I went to see her father in Florida. The Plums divorced. There was no marriage left so when Stephanie broke down, the father's eyes cleared and got the courage to end the marriage. He ended up with two of his three granddaughters as Stephanie's sister was a carbon copy of the mother and abusing one of the girls as Steph had been. Frank gave me more insight into Stephanie's life. She was unwanted and unloved by her mother. Steph's first marriage, pushed by her mother, lasted 3 months. The cop professed to love her but wanted to control her. I was the only one who loved her, complimented her, built her up but then cast her away over and over. I should have never gotten involved with her."

"No, you protected her the only way you knew," Papa said.

"Maybe there was another way…."

"Do you still love her?"

"I think so."

"Who do you love, Stephanie or the new woman?"

"I don't know the new one. What if she doesn't need me anymore?"

Is that the type of relationship you want? A woman/child constantly looking for acceptance crumbs you throw her from time to time, emotionally immature or a woman your equal; one who built herself exactly like you did?"

Ranger was unsure how to answer. Was he drawn to the fluffy Stephanie, curls and needy? Does Mitch or Michelle have a soft side?

"Carlos, you won't know until you see her and talk to her. She may be different, tougher, but the heart may still be there for you. If she knew you were in the area and didn't call, how would she feel?"

"Abandoned…..again."

"You've abandoned her time and again to keep her safe. Are you going to continue doing so now because of indecision or fear?" his father asked.

"What if she's moved on to someone else?"

 _"_ _What if's_ get you nowhere and eventually eat you alive, Carlos. Ranger Manoso gathered facts and was decisive. It's time to recapture him. If she has moved on, then so must you."

 **00000000**

"Michelle, its Ranger. I'm in Newark visiting my family. I would like to see you, away from Rangeman. I was wondering if you'd have lunch with me tomorrow. I can come to Trenton."

Michelle was wondering where the "Yo" had disappeared? "Ranger, I'm not living or working in Trenton right now, I'm in Princeton for a while. Rangeman has facilities in North Mercer County."

"I can meet you wherever you wish. It's just lunch Michelle." He hoped he didn't sound like he was pleading. Geez, what has happened to him?

There was a long pause, she didn't know if she was ready for this, but definitely preferred a public location. "Agricolas in Princeton at 1:15?"

"I'll be there. Thank you." He so wanted to say Babe but didn't know if it was appropriate for Mitch. He still didn't say good-bye on the phone. Phone manners weren't developed.

Ranger arrived early and found a table against the wall, of course. He sipped the restaurant's filtered mineral water waiting for the women who kept him alive through many missions but who in the end he had to hurt, even destroy.

She came into the restaurant in her tailored black pant suit with heels; the pale blue sweater matched her eyes. The wool jacket was cut to conceal a weapon at her back; few would recognize the difference. A scarf in the same blue was wound around her neck for warmth. Her broad shoulders, tight waist and trim hips gave her a lovely but edgy look. This was not a piece of fluff, her Jersey girl look was gone. Ranger noted several men watched her walk assuredly through the restaurant; they were curious but hesitant.

"Hello Ranger," she said as she allowed him to kiss her cheek. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, just a few minutes. Thank you for having lunch with me," he said. It sounded so dull but he was trying to keep his emotions undercover.

The waitress came by with the menus, "May I get you something to drink?"

Michelle ordered lemonade, Ranger stayed with the water.

Looking over the menu he was surprised at all the lighter fare but said nothing. She glanced at the menu and put it down.

He looked up surprised and fearful. Was she going to bolt? Normally she spends far more time making a selection. "Do you know what you want already?" he asked.

She smiled, "I eat here frequently. I'm getting the chicken salad. He glanced at the ingredients; chicken, fruits, vegetables and nuts, hardly a typical Babe meal but does explain the enhanced physique.

"Sounds good," he said as he set his menu down.

After the waitress brought the drinks and took their order, leaving them in peace; Ranger and Mitch sat in silence, not knowing who was going to speak first.

"I assume from your dress you are not doing bond apprehensions today," he said kicking himself for another banal opening.

"No, I'm concentrating on my clients, staying away from Trenton what with….." She didn't continue.

"…the situation with Joe," he finished. "I've read the papers. Tell me about your clients." He certainly didn't want to discuss Morelli.

She realized Rangeman ran a bit differently than when he ran it and explained she was the Rangeman face here in north Mercer County. She met prospective clients and if they signed a contract, she over saw the system installation and made frequent check backs until the clients were comfortable. If service was needed, she'd accompany the technician.

"You know the various systems?" he asked.

"I've been working with Hector and Julio, he's someone new."

"How many new clients do you get from this special service?"

"Ranger, it's not special, it is how Rangeman Trenton operates now. You were the front man for most sales when you were in town. I'm the lead as well, but I do more backups, check backs to make sure the people are satisfied and that Rangeman truly cares for their security. With a woman as the lead, sales are less testosterone, more personal contact. When I have a client who works better with men, Lester or Charlie becomes the lead. Since I've come aboard, we have far more women owned businesses and homes under contract than ever before. Of course the security response is testosterone overload, that's still expected.

"You said Northern Mercer, how many others are there of you?"

Charlie handles western Mercer; Ewing, Hopewell, and Hamilton. Lester does Trenton. I do Princeton, West Windsor and East Windsor. We haven't gotten to Robbinsville.

"You are spread too thin for response," he shot back just like the Ranger of old.

"If we were totally based from Haywood, yes, the response time would be 30 minutes or more. We have three satellite centers with at least four patrols at all times in each district. A new one is being planned as more clients come aboard."

He knew most of this already, but was just making conversation.

"Do you do FTAs?" Once again he already knew the answer.

"Hal has two teams; Junior and Jamie are his main recovery agents. When he needs a second team Charlie and I step in or if we are tied up, we still have the security patrols."

"Do you spend all your time in the field?"

"No, at least two days a week I'm chained to my desk at Haywood doing paper work."

He chuckled, "That's exactly what it takes me to do the paper work, chains." He sat back and looked at her carefully, "You look good…Michelle."

"I've changed."

"Physically yes, you are more angular, muscular and walk and talk with authority. I miss the curls but understand the less complicated hair now; gone is the Jersey girl with curls and excess mascara. Now there is an in control woman who knows how to highlight her looks subtly."

She looked embarrassed, "Now that I have a regular income, I can go to a higher level salon and spa. Mr. Alexander at the mall was fine, but I've moved on or up."

This fits the new you; in control. Fortunately your eyes will never change; they are still the most amazing shade of blue," he said softly.

She looked at him carefully, "Ranger hasn't changed, you look the same, same build, same eyes but I note something different."

"A limp?"

"No, it's something in your eyes," she said leaning forward.

His father had said something similar. "Are you saying I'm more like Bruce Wayne now, not Batman?"

She jerked back, "I hope not. Bruce Wayne lived in the public eye with high-status women on his arm and was the child of tabloid gossip."

"What do you see?"

She had a compassionate look for the first time, "Someone suffering."

He looked down at the table and sighed slowly. In a quiet voice he began, "Michelle, I was trained to be what I became. I was the best which is why I continued it after the Army. I was a soldier, hunter, stalker, and killer. I lived on the edge every single day to where it became my drug. I needed it and could not stop. It ate me until there was almost nothing inside. Rangeman was my way of making sure my men and others who followed had chance to rebuild their life as I had forsaken mine. Then one day I met a woman with crazy curls who wanted me to teach her to become a bond enforcement agent. You were a spark in my dark life. When you live in the dark, that brief spark is almost blinding. For a brief moment I saw life, not death. You were different than other women I knew, those that threw themselves at me, laughing, tossing their hair around, flirting, what I call the 2 hour women, fuck 'em and leave 'em. You were different. Every pore in my body screamed, "Run, she will ruin everything."

"I'm sorry," she said with sadly. She selfishly related to Ranger by what he did for her, never considering what she was doing to him.

"I was scheduled to move to Miami right after rescuing you from the shower rod, but I didn't. I was drawn to your spark, which became a flame in me cauterizing my wounds, providing solace. I couldn't give you up."

She sat quiet for a bit. "You've never been this open to me."

"I know Babe, I mean Michelle. We couldn't do this back then."

"Ranger, you were my lifeguard. When I disappointed you, you didn't condemn me like my family, the Burg or Joe, you told me in your simple way, "Babe," I could do better. And when I did something right, "Proud of you Babe," was a salve, healing me. But I was a taker, taking from you but not understanding you and your needs. You were so different, alien, and I tried to fit you into a Burg box. You most certainly can't be boxed or even corralled. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you, running back to Joe time and again, listening to my mother. Let's not get into the monetary loss in cars, medical expenses, lost hours for you and the men. I never stopped to think about all those, I was selfish."

He had his tiny Ranger smile, "Babe, you just told me I was never this open, look how you just opened up as well." He paused and then zeroed in on her blue eyes, "When I sent you back to Joe that first time, I didn't realize how deep a scar it left in you. That wound never healed, not in you and surprisingly not in me. You never totally trusted me again and kept running back to Joe which kept the wounds raw in both of us. We tried to bandage them over calling each other friends. I thought you wanted a Burg life, something I'll never do. I knew my life did not lead to family, it was too dangerous. I tried to tell you but I was afraid you'd say it didn't matter, we'd commit to one another and then you'd be killed because of me. Being the cause of your death would destroy me. Equally painful was the thought of me dying and leaving you alone and distraught."

Her mind flashed on a Grandpa Mazur vision of the funeral with the wife, children and in-laws being buried because of something Ranger and the others did. "Ranger, you had to do what you did. I didn't understand then but I understand now. Stephanie, that pathetic person had to shatter before the shell around her brain and heart opened. Tank and the others helped me understand and Dr. Anders, the Rangeman psychologist helped me to feel again but most of the credit belongs to Grandpa Mazur. He opened my eyes."

Shaking his head, "Babe, I don't understand. You said that in Atlanta."

"Someday I'll tell you."

"Do we have a someday?" He asked with hope in his voice.

"Carlos, I can't go back to what I was. If you want or need Stephanie, you will have nothing more than memories. I was in church with Tank and the priest was talking about past, present and future. We can't undo and redo the past, it is gone. We acknowledge and make amends, but we don't drag the mistakes into the present and continually beat them. Nor can we look to the future for the future is not guaranteed. All we can do is live in the now with the knowledge gained from the past."

"Sounds like you and Tank got close."

She put her fork down onto the table. "Stop right there, don't go any further. No jealousy. Nothing happened. You told him both to ignore me and to take care of me. Your mind was not clear before you left. Fortunately his was. Through his devotion to you, your friendship, and his compassionate heart, which he will deny he has, he rescued me and helped rebuild me. Do I love him? Yes, like a father, a brother, a father confessor, best friend, but I have never been IN love with him. That has always been only you, not Dickie Orr, not Joe Morelli, only Ricardo Carlos Manoso."

"I'm sorry, I'm being a jerk."

"Yes you are," she said as she picked her fork back up and tossed aside a raisin.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. She was taking charge. He knew she had a fiery temper but never one this controlled. Gone were the hand waving, the finer pointing. He loved it.

"Are you looking for Ranger or Carlos?" he asked.

"I see now they are one in the same; one is not evil, the other only good. I've been having the same conflicting thoughts about Michelle and Mitch wondering who I am, then I remembered Dr. Anders as well as what several of the men tried to explain to me; we are one but take on different personas as the situation demands.

Tank made me memorize the Soldier's Creed as well as the Ranger Creed. I understand you now more than I ever did. You were always "on duty." I'm not going to recite both creeds but I keep several lines in mind:

 _I accept the fact that as a Ranger my country expects me to move further, faster and fight harder than any other Soldier._

 _I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong and morally straight and I will shoulder more than my share of the task whatever it may be, one-hundred-percent and then some._

 _Surrender is not a Ranger word. I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy and under no circumstances will I ever embarrass my country._

 _Readily will I display the intestinal fortitude and complete the mission though I be the lone survivor._

 _Rangers lead the way!_

I know Junior says "Once a Marine, always a Marine." Bones is a former Air Force Pararescue jumper, similar creeds. It's a mindset us civilians don't understand, at least I didn't before.

Carlos' mind grabbed hold of two phrases from the creed he knew and lived completely; _Surrender is not a Ranger word_ and _I will complete the mission._ He was applying these to his physical rehabilitation but was he neglecting is personal rehabilitation. He was so in his thoughts he almost didn't hear her say, "I'm rather curious how Carlos is woven through, I've only seen glimpses."

Why isn't Ranger applying these creed to his life? No surrender, complete the mission.

She sensed his mind churning and concentrated on the last of her salad.

He looked up, "Ranger and Carlos are still there, but Ranger is a bit lost. I hope I didn't lose him; Carlos is trying to hold everything together until a new equilibrium can be reached." He paused and continued, "Speaking of loss, is Stephanie is really gone. There was much about her that was admirable."

I'm not sure there was much admirable about her, but maybe Michelle has absorbed Stephanie's good things. If some of the bad hasn't been fully lost and seeps through, I'm sure Mitch will beat it down."

He had to fight hard not to smile. "Babe, err, Michelle, I'd like to start over, move beyond the mess I made."

"It wasn't our time, Carlos. We were carrying too much baggage. We have to forgive ourselves and one another before we can ever see if that spark is still there and if it can be nurtured into a flame. Living in the past will doom a recovery.

"So how do we do this? Do we become friends first? It brings back shades of Morelli, I'm sorry."

"Ranger, drop it! We will never get anywhere if we keep looking over our shoulders. He is G-O-N-E. He was my Guzman."

Ranger was shocked she knew the name. "There's a difference, Guzman is dead."

"Are you sure? You were injured."

Ranger stared at her, he couldn't say the team brought Guzman's head which he personally removed before his fall as well as the tyrant's right hand back for confirmation. "I'm sure," he said quietly with conviction.

She stared at him, "If you need Morelli dead, I know a dozen or more men who will gladly do my bidding, though he seems to be doing a good job self- destructing. To get back to your question on how to do this, I believe our true hearts are still alive and if we can cut through all these new layers and contradictions, we have a chance. Our relationship should start from a new beginning, like today; dating, conversations, emails, and letters." She looked off and then back at him, "Ranger, neither of us was totally honest with each other before. I kept things from you and you from me. We can't keep doing that."

"Agreed; however, if some government imposed security issue arises that you do not have clearance, I won't be able to share that with you. Can you accept that?"

"Are you going to remain active?"

"I still have skills, no more running through third world countries, but even Rangeman has a secretive side."

She nodded, "You tell me honestly it is a legal issue or my knowledge might compromise the job, but don't lie to me because you think it might hurt me. I'm a lot stronger than you realize."

"I'm seeing that. And to prove I am upfront, I'm telling you now I was in Melbourne last week and had a long conversation with your father and met your nieces and Edna."

She was curious more than surprised, "How did you know where?"

"Julie and I saw Big Blue was cruising through Little Havana with Edna in the front seat."

"Grandma Mazur was driving Blue Blue in Miami?" She gasped.

He chuckled, that would have been a sight, "No she sold the car to a collector there."

"I didn't know. I've talked with my father only three times since last Christmas."

"Your father had taken his 'women' to Miami and they contacted to the new owner for one last ride. I got the license plate and called the owner. He told me Frank, Edna and the girls lived in Melbourne."

"So you know…."

"Yes, your father was very forth coming. He's still dealing with the pain he caused you."

She was quiet for a while. "How are they?"

"You'll be seeing them in a few weeks. You are in for a surprise."

"Good surprised?"

"Yes."

She smiled. Ranger hadn't seen that smile in a year; it beamed into him, filling him with joy and hope they'd have a future together.

"There it is," she whispered.

"What?"

"For a moment I saw the spark in your eyes," she said softly.

"Your smile ignited it."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **Ranger POV**

 **Lunch** with Michelle gave me the impetus to visit Haywood Street. I didn't drop in, but instead called and made an appointment with Tank and Lester.

Whenever I left on a mission, I would turn in my fobs and ID not wanting them to be stolen. Each return to Haywood Street meant coming through the public entry. After identifying myself, the door was electronically unlocked and I entered the reception area to find a dozen Rangemen I had served with in battle standing at attention, saluting. "Welcome home Ranger," Tank barked.

I hesitated, this wasn't home anymore. I wanted to call out "Report" but I was not in command here. I had to be humble, "Gentlemen it's always a pleasure to see you but why the hell aren't you working?"

That broke the spell and they fell out and came forward to shake hands, pump shoulders or even man hug.

Only a couple of us fit in the elevator, the rest ran up to 5. The men had seen me use a cane or crutch before and were not concerned. Only Bobby knew it might be permanent; not if I could help it.

Immediately I noted the monitor area was greatly enlarged reflecting new business. Auxiliary offices on the floor were moved down to the second and first floors. Only Tank and Lester's offices remained on five.

"You've grown," I commented to Tank.

"We have some new workers who are exceptional," he answered humbly.

"Yes, I met one for lunch."

"Mitch?"

I nodded.

"Her ideas are working out well. You were right; she would become a great asset to Rangeman."

How long ago had I said that….years? She always did well working for us but lacked the self-assuredness. From what I've seen, that's changed.

I heard a squeal from behind me and knew it was Tia Ella coming. "Carlos…"

She hugged but started to pull away, but I held on. This was my family, though my aunt, Ella was as much a mother to me as my own mother. Though six inches shorter than me, I had no doubt she could….and has….kicked my ass. I didn't speak, I let my hug speak for me. Finally I said, "I see you are tending the men well. I hope you aren't as difficult with Tank as you were with me."

She laughed, "It is my pleasure to serve all the men and …one woman." The later part had the rise as if a question.

I couldn't say too much so just winked at her. " _Estoy trabajando en ello."_ (I'm working on it.) I whispered.

Instead of a smile I received a slap on the back of the head, " _No lo arruines_." (Don't ruin it)

The former Core Team; Bobby, Lester, Tank, and I moved into Tank's office, my old office. Bobby and Lester went for the couch; I went to the visitor's chair.

"We didn't have a chance to talk in Atlanta, I've been reading the quarterly reports. The August quarterly was quite an eye opener."

Tank chuckled, "Mitch streamlined operations, got a handle on the books and pointed out where we were losing money, beyond her propensity to destroying cars. I'm happy to report there have been no more exploding cars. Harry the Hammer sold Plum Bail bonds to us. Hal runs it and has Junior and Jamie, a former Marine MP as agents plus started poaching some higher bonds from Sebring. Mitch wanted to stay in BA for a while so Hal and I agreed to partner her with Charlie, an Army MP. Mitch's strength is the business end but she likes a little action now and again."

"Lula?" I regretted asking before I finished asking.

Tank shook his head, "Owns a salon in Hamilton, has a full time husband, married two months ago. Glad it's Robert, not me."

The voice from the couch quickly cut in, "Different Robert, not me."

Lester chuckled, "Bobby, I figured she favored you over Tank but you were too shy."

Bobby would have his revenge, later.

I began, "Apparently I left me with conflicting orders."

Tank nodded, "Your escape plan was flawed from the get-go, then Morelli…"

I didn't need to hear the story again, "I've talked with her father in Florida, so know quite a bit; excuse me, continue."

Tank nodded (and registered I had apologized)…."Bobby and Cal brought her to me Christmas Day, she was near catatonic. She wouldn't talk, look or listen. Bobby thought she might need to be institutionalized. I saw something in her and remembering her previous resiliency. I took her to an isolated location and within 24 hours she was talking and making sense. Her hold was tenuous, but I risked telling her she needed to change and set future goals and then I left her alone. "

I nearly leapt from his chair, "You what!? You could have destroyed her."

"She was destroyed already. The moment she accepted Joe's ring she started to decline. If she was going to make changes she didn't need me holding her and cooing sweet words like you or acting like a wild monkey yelling and waving my hands like Joe. She isn't a child. When I returned she surprised me by asking me to train her so she'd be prepared to she enlist in the Army."

"Army?" I was still finding that hard to believe.

"For the last few years she's done bond apprehension, not efficiently, but she was tenacious. I off handedly suggested she'd make good MP. It was enough to motivate her into fixing her mind and body giving her a goal. I became her drill instructor not sparing her feelings. She needed to grow up, fast. We moved into the forest in January and began training."

"Outside in January?" I knew Babe, err, Stephanie, err whoever didn't care for cold and wet.

"She did far better than I imagined she would. It was as if someone had shown her the past and what needed to be changed. I thought it was me, but, no there was something else. At the end of 7 weeks I brought her back to New Jersey to one of our safe houses and had Lester, Bones, Ram and Hector finish the training. It wasn't long before she was running 60 miles a week, increasing her strength training, proficient in handguns and rifles, and her thinking was becoming focused. Before she went to a recruiter's office I had Charlie, a new employee and former MP, talk to her about her chances in the Army. He explained she was too old for MP but with her degree qualified for resource services. After Charlie opened her eyes, she came to Rangeman on a trial basis. She had the option to leave at any time, join the military or seek work elsewhere. She hasn't left. Instinctively the staff here finished her transformation into Michelle/Mitch. She realizes how important she is to the organization."

I listened and marveled at what Tank's accomplishments, but then I did see him train others in the Army. "What is the difference between Michelle and Mitch?"

"Mitch the Bitch is her way of keeping the guys at arm's length. Once they understood, the embraced the name," Tank explained.

"Is there any Stephanie left?" I asked.

Lester spoke up, "When Damien was shot, she was there tending him, keeping up his spirits, the Stephanie of old. The compassionate Stephanie is still there though she denies it."

I nodded. "She said she understands now, my life and its limitations. What did you tell her?"

Tank shook his head, "I let the Guzman name escape after I knew he was gone, but told her it was still classified. Her reaction was strange; it was as if she already knew the mission, just not the name."

"Grandpa Mazur?"

"Edna's husband? I don't know what you are talking about." Tank truly looked confused. "She hasn't shared anything about him with me. Now I need to know Ric, what are your intentions towards her?"

"We are backing up and trying again, starting over, slowly."

Tank nodded, "So help me if you screw this up, I and every man in the building will beat the shit out of you and then kill you without an ounce of remorse."

"I know." I felt I would deserve the sentence.

"Are you staying here?" he asked plainly.

"I have work in Miami for a while. I said we were going slowly." I knew it wasn't a definite answer but I still had to set new goals.

Tank looked Ranger straight into his eyes, "I'll be honest Ric, you are dispensable; she isn't. I don't want to lose her."

"Tank, she can help the other three offices the way she has done here."

Tank grumbled. He knew it was true.

"Now what can you tell me about Morelli's problem?"

Lester took over, "Officially the "Tretonian" has said little after his firing. The new editor doesn't give a damn about the Bombastic Bounty Hunter. The Chambersburg rag carried the story out a bit more, of course, but the story has lost traction, finally."

Bobby took over, "My sources have him in a private treatment center in Hamilton. He was busted back to officer after the Christmas Travesty when he made an ass of himself here. He was given one last chance which he blew at Gonzales'. He's no longer a cop. As far as I know he and Mitch have not been in contact with one another since Christmas Eve."

"Helen?" I asked referring to Helen Mazur formerly Plum, Stephanie's mother.

Tank answered, "She's still living in the same house. Valerie lives with her and works downtown. The courts deemed Helen a danger to her granddaughter Lisa after dropping her while intoxicated and ordered her to have no contact with the baby. Albert has full custody of the baby. Valerie can visit only at Albert's home. Apparently she showed up for a visit with her Helen after both had a three martini lunch and caused quite a commotion. Police were called. Albert has received permission to leave the state with Lisa. He and his mother and the baby are looking to move to Florida."

"Are Helen and Valerie aware of Mitch?"

"Hector thinks Helen saw her in Tasty Pastry but no words were exchanged," Tank said.

"What about Burg gossip?"

Tank continued, "The name Stephanie Plum reappeared after the Morelli incident, but since she wasn't involved, it disappeared quickly. The Morellis, Helen and Valerie try to keep her name in the forefront but their own credibility is dropping quickly. It also helps most don't recognize her and she avoids the area. When she's doing FTAs, she and her partner Charlie are very efficient. Charlie usually walks the FTAs into the police building."

"Tell me about Charlie."

Lester answered, "You saw him in Atlanta. He is a former Army MP, wife Margie, young daughter. Mitch often babysits the daughter allowing the parents adult time. "

"Terri Gilmore?" I asked.

Bobby winced, "She the wild card. My sources tell me she's paying for Joe's rehab."

"Do you think he'll go to work for the Grizolli's?"

"That's why I said wild card," Bobby answered.

 **000000000000000**

 **Michelle** was looking forward to Christmas in Florida. It would be a far happier experience than the last one in Trenton. Though she still was uncertain about her relationship with her father, the thought of seeing her nieces and Grandma Mazur almost made her giddy; except Mitch didn't do giddy.

She knew her father's finances wouldn't support a lavish holiday for the girls so she would supplement. Instead of carrying items to Florida, she told her father she'd arrive a few days early and shop down there, staying in a motel.

"Pumpkin I understand, but I do want you with us here as part of the holidays. So please don't plan on more than a night or two in a motel. It's Christmas, you should be here."

Remembering her family home with only one bathroom she was hesitant but respected her father's obvious desire she stay with them.

She arrived at the Plum house Christmas Eve near midnight when the girls had gone to bed. Grandma Mazur had also gone to bed to maintain the household routine and not tip off the girls. After a very warm hug and kiss from her father, together they arranged presents under the tree along with the ones already there.

"You've gone overboard," Frank said quietly.

"No, they have had a traumatic year too."

Moving far from the bedrooms to the kitchen, Michelle began to speak, "Daddy," the term fell from her mouth before she could ask him what she should call him. " I hardly recognize you! You aren't ill are you?"

He chuckled quietly, "Look who's talking. We both got healthy; doctor's orders for me. Trenton was killing us."

"This house is amazing. How did you afford it?"

It's not a mansion but compared to Trenton it feels like it. Most of it was paid for by Edna. She sold Big Blue and had money from selling her house and her husband's estate. Who knew she had investments; she only talked about her social security. She kept a lot of it secret from Helen, socking it away for her granddaughters. She changed her will, took the money and put it towards this house for her great granddaughters. She assumed you wouldn't mind and didn't care what Valerie thought. I paid the rest through savings I didn't have to share with Helen."

"So you are getting by?"

Frank patted her hand, "We aren't living high but everything is covered and most importantly, the girls, all three of them are happy. There's even a chance Albert, Lisa and Mrs. Kloughn will be moving down here. Apparently Valerie is violating her visitation orders. Albert is looking into becoming a paralegal down here until he can pass the bar in Florida. His mother is like Edna, wanting the warmer climate."

"It would be good for you to have all your granddaughters here," Michelle said. I'm sad about Valerie. How do you give up your daughters?"

"Helen did," he said plainly not adding he also did. "Pumpkin, I think back and wonder how did things go so wrong?"

"Daddy, what I've learned from my tour in Perdition, you don't look back. It can't be undone, you move forward. I hope you aren't moping around."

"Do I look like I'm moping around? I have friends down here, even women friends. I'm not looking to marry what with the girls but I do enjoy adult conversation and evenings out. What about you Michelle?"

"I'm working for Rangeman. We have expanded so while I have an apartment on Haywood, I also have a studio near Princeton at Rangeman North since most of my work is in Princeton and surrounding areas. I'm rarely in Trenton and avoid the Burg like the plague."

She looked off for a moment, "A month or so ago I ran into Helen and Angie Morelli at Tasty Pastry. It was a last minute run for the office. I'm not sure Helen and Angie recognized me but Helen spewed vitriol about Rangeman. The woman behind the counter told Helen to take her business elsewhere; she was not welcome back at Tasty Pastry.

Then…about 10 days ago several Rangeman entered a male prostitute's apartment for a bond violation and Joe Morelli was….being serviced. He was also strung out of heroin and weed. TPD immediately fired him. I don't know anything more, nor do I want to."

Frank muttered. "He didn't fall far from the tree after all." He got up, "You want a little Christmas cordial?"

"What's that?"

"A mix of several different fruits like mango, guava, and pomegranates made into a syrup and add vodka and Brandy. It then mellows for a few weeks or months. Years ago I made it with cherries but Helen drank most of it before I got a chance."

"Yes, I'd love some. Daddy, when did she start drinking?"

"I think she was a closet drunk for years, but I only noticed around the holidays when she would find the brandy. She came out of the closet, so to speak, after Valerie married and moved to California," he said.

…"when she found herself with her mother and me," Michelle mumbled.

"What did you say, sweetie. My hearing is going, thank you Army."

"Nothing Daddy."

Frank brought the purple concoction to the table. "Merry Christmas Michelle."

Carefully sipping the small glass Michelle smiled, "Good but potent. I'm a light drinker so this is plenty."

"Person has to know their limits. This bottle will last me until next August when I'll have to make more."

"Do you think Helen started drinking with baby Anthony?"

Frank looked off, "Maybe. How did you find out about him?"

"You wouldn't believe me. I don't understand myself."

Frank put his brandy down and waited.

She realized she needed to tell someone. "It was when Tank took me to his house in Maine after….I shattered. He made sure I was somewhat sane and left me alone telling me I had to think about my life by myself, undistracted by others. I was isolated with forest on three sides, ocean on the others, no vehicle so I was stuck. One night Grandpa Mazur came. It was like the Dickens' story. We got in Big Blue and drove through the forest. I saw Anthony's funeral and grandpa told me about him. Then I was outside the kitchen with my arm in a cast listening to you and Helen talking about me and how she didn't want a tomboy daughter but a son. Grandpa or you said something about not having more children, the hemorrhage. From there the scene changed again and I saw Joe Morelli's abuse on me at age 6, and 16, Helen's abuse…"

Frank hung his head and started to speak…

"No Daddy, let me finish…..This adventure went over three nights. We talked about my life, his life, how he died in bed after taking Viagra. Other images I saw was Joe banging a woman on the kitchen table just weeks before…our end; how the men at Rangeman didn't go along with Ranger's edict not to support me after I became engaged, but most strange of all, I saw Ranger with another officer at a funeral where the man's family had been killed in retribution for what Ranger's squad had done. The officer told Ranger to never fall in love. What they did with the Army put loved ones at risk. The next scene was Ranger in a jungle, talking to me wishing me Merry Christmas and apologizing because the man he was hunting was the one that kept us apart. He wasn't sure he'd survive but had to try to eliminate the man. She paused and sipped her brandy. "The worst vision was the future, one was me as a successful business woman with a child and husband and then it switched to an alternate view, a vagrant in the morgue."

Frank sat silent for a long time. Michelle figured he was trying to decide if she was nuts. He reached out and took her hand. "Don't tell Edna I told you, but she had a dream with Karl Henry in it telling her to sell Big Blue by advertising in a Florida car collector's magazine. She did and a man called and wanted it sight unseen for an obscene amount of money." Frank waved his hand over his head, "It was about 30% of this home's cost."

Michelle didn't try to figure out how much. "So you believe me?"

Frank nodded, "After we got here I had my own visit from Karl Henry Mazur thanking me for taking care of his wife and great granddaughters. No word to anyone about that."

Michelle scoffed, "After what I just told you?"

Frank smiled and finished his brandy, "God works in mysterious ways. Now Pumpkin, it's probably four hours before the girls get up, can you bunk on the couch until tomorrow when I'll move the girls together and you can sleep with Mary Alice's pink unicorns. Oh, don't worry about bathrooms, we have 2 ½ here," he chuckled. "There's a powder room just behind the kitchen there."

 **00000000**

Michelle awakened to Mary Alice gasping, "Santa's been here," then leaping over the back of the sofa and landing on top of her Aunt Michelle much to both of their surprises.

"Aunt Steph…Michelle!" Instantly Mitch was buried under her two nieces.

"Shhh, girls, people are trying to sleep, here, lets' snuggle under the blanket together until the others get up. You know old folks need their sleep." The three managed to get another hour sleep before Michelle's bladder won, "OK, where's the bathroom, girls?"

After Nature call the three went about setting the table for breakfast and Michelle started the coffee. About 30 minutes later Frank came out, "Grandpa, look who Santa brought! She was asleep on the couch."

He kissed them both, "Go get dressed and while Michelle and I cook breakfast."

"But the presents…"

He ruffled their wayward hair, "We will guard them."

Before they returned Grandma Mazur came into the kitchen, "I smell coffee."

Michelle hugged her grandmother. Edna grumbled, "I've missed you too sweetie, but first let me have my coffee."

Frank slipped an egg casserole into the oven and heated precooked bacon. "I'm not messing up the kitchen with bacon grease this morning." Michelle made toast while Grandma Mazur focused.

"You've changed. Your hair is controlled, your body is different. You were hinting at the Hungarian spread."

Michelle silently agreed. The stress of being engaged to Joe had added a few pounds. "Looks who's talking. I love your hair Grandma, it makes you look younger."

Grandma Mazur shook her head, "I need a face lift but the doctor says my skin is too thin now; should have been done 20 years ago. If he did it now I'd look like a mummy, just skin stretched across bone, nothing in between. I haven't discounted having my breasts lifted but understand it's painful. I have enough pain with arthritis so just buy my bras at Victoria's."

Michelle glanced at her father who was quietly laughing as he made toast and cut up grapefruit. He was no longer hiding behind the newspaper as he did in Trenton.

After breakfast and the gift opening to much squeals of delight the wrapping were collected, house straightened and Mary Alice moved into her sister's room. Michelle set her luggage among the pink unicorns.

Though the high temperature would only be in the 70's everyone wanted to go to the beach. Not into the water, but a Christmas Day picnic at the beach. It sure beat a cold snowy day in New Jersey. Frank had anticipated this and had food for a picnic already prepared. Michelle was silently grateful the foods were healthy as she helped pack. The beach was mostly empty. They had a shade umbrella and beach chairs for Grandma Mazur and Frank, blankets for the rest of the family. Everyone dressed in long pants and long sleeve shirts with sweaters handy; after all, it was the end of December. A small volley ball net was set up and all but Grandma Mazur played but she was the judge calling out the score.

Michelle was about to serve when she spied someone walking towards their group. He limped. She recognized the form, the latte colored skin. Mary Alice noted her aunt was distracted and turned to look.

"Ranger," she squealed and took off across the sand wrapping herself around his leg as she had done weeks before.

Michelle turned to her father. Frank shrugged, "He asked if he could come."

Angie was off and running and grabbed Ranger's other leg, the weak one. Ranger carefully placed her hands around his waist, "My leg isn't strong enough to support you Angie," he said smoothly. He then looked up at Michelle and shrugged as if to say, "I'm stuck."

Michelle smiled and shrugged as if you say, figure it out yourself.

Ranger leaned over and whispered something to the girls. They let go and ran back to the umbrella's shade. "Ranger wants some water."

By the time they got the water and argued which one would bring it to Ranger, he had arrived at the picnic site. Mary Alice held out the water bottle, "Here's your water."

Ranger thanked her and looked at Michelle, "Merry Christmas Michelle." He then proceeded to wish everyone else a Merry Christmas and of course shake Frank's hand.

Michelle leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, "Merry Christmas Carlos. This is a pleasant, though apparently not unexpected surprise."

"You sorry I came?" he asked.

"No, not at all."

Ranger, Michelle and the girls sat on the beach blankets avoiding the shade as it as too cold.

"Now that you are here, we can eat," Frank said. "I'm hungry."

Michelle turned to Ranger, "I never knew the girls were aware of you or knew your name."

Angie spoke up, "We remembered him when he came to grandpa's house in Trenton. He was always nice to you and made you happy but we weren't allowed to talk to him. I don't think grandma Helen liked him."

Before the mood soured Ranger replied, I'm very happy you can talk to me now. I enjoyed our visit a few weeks ago."

"You are walking better," Angie said.

"A little better each day."

Mary Alice looked at Michelle, "He fell off tall building."

Michelle was still not aware how Ranger was injured.

After the meal, everyone returned to the volleyball net including Frank. Michelle could not remember playing volleyball, or any game with her father.

When Grandma Mazur started falling asleep in her chair the picnic was declared over. "Help be back up girls and let Ranger and Michelle have some privacy."

Ranger took Michelle's hand and stared walking down the beach. When they were about 100 feet away Grandma Mazur opened an eye, "I thought they'd never go off together. I had to fake a nap." Frank just chuckled.

 **00000000**

"So how do you like Christmas Florida style, Michelle?" Ranger asked.

"You know I love the ocean. This is wonderful," she said waving her hand across the horizon.

"It gives the song White Christmas a new feel, you can really dream of a white Christmas and snow because chances of it happening here is almost nonexistent. I'm told about 40 years ago there were a few flakes, no accumulation, people didn't know if it was whitefly or snow."

"Whitefly?"

"They are small flying insects. Michelle, may I call you Babe? Michelle feels so foreign."

"You called me Babe a few times in Princeton. I liked the sound. What do you want me to call you?"

"Carlos away from Rangeman."

"Are you coming back?" she asked neutrally, or at least she hoped it was neutrally.

"I've never left; I'm just headquartered in Miami right now."

"Do you foresee that changing?"

He had a small Ranger smile, "Tank has threatened me with harm if I lure you away. That's more we need to discuss: Where you want to be and what are your goals?"

"Carlos, I love my family here, I love my Rangeman family in Trenton, I love my work. Sex is no longer entertainment for me, but rather part of a commitment. I'm even slightly warming to the idea of children, but if I go there, I'm not doing it as a single mother but part of marriage, sign on the dotted line, vow to God, and so on. Blame Tank or maybe my Catholic upbringing finally rooted. No more fuck-buddy, bed-warmer, occasional sex. If Carlos and Ranger are to be part of the mix with Michelle and Mitch, it must be in a legal, committed relationship with the possibility of a child."

"A child?" he asked quietly. He thought of Julie and what she needed now and his need for Michelle.

"If you believe your previous, or current life is too dangerous or complicated for a family, please tell me sooner rather than later. Don't string me along that "someday" we will have our….someday. I'm running out of time."

He nodded. It was more information than he wanted right away but he needed a response, "You forgot about Julie. It could get crowded."

Michelle realized she hadn't thought about Julie's needs. Since Ranger's injuries, Julie has been an important part of his life. "I love Julie like a daughter her needs now are as important as ours, if not more. Know that Mitch might not like the crowd but I suspect Michelle will love it," she laughed trying to hide her confusion.

"Is Stephanie part of the mix?"

She looked off out over the ocean, "Ranger I told you in Princeton there is very little Stephanie left. Cupcake, Bombshell Bounty Hunter, and Train Wreck were shattered Christmas Eve and cremated in the Maine woods, but she didn't completely die. But if the weak parts emerge, I can guarantee Mitch the Bitch will beat the crap out of them."

Ranger chuckled, "I always hoped you'd get stronger physically and emotionally. Now I'm not sure I'm man enough for Mitch the Bitch but Michelle promises to be quite a woman."

"She's standing right here Ranger."

He cupped her cheek, "Hello Michelle, I'm Carlos" and then he kissed her.

 **00000000**

"Carlos, will you be joining us at home," Frank asked.

"Please Ranger, please, please," Mary Alice begged.

Michelle spoke up, "You are welcome, but if you need to get back to Miami…"

"I have a hotel room here. I'd love to join you, if that's OK with you Michelle."

She nodded affirmative and smiled shyly.

"Pumpkin, why don't you ride with Carlos."

Michelle looked at the larger Porsche, "You still have a Turbo?"

"Yes, but right now this is more comfortable," he answered quietly. He really didn't want to elaborate about his injuries.

"How are you coming?" she asked.

"Better every day."

She smiled. No he wasn't going to elaborate nor would she ask. "I can relate." There was a time she'd want detailed information, but no more. Living in the here and now, moving forward, not backward was her motto.

He sat there waiting for her to ask about the mission which he couldn't discuss. Nothing. She just sat and smiled.

Babe…

She turned and looked at him, "Moving forward Carlos, not backwards. I would like to have you join me, but it is your decision."

"I've missed you, Babe."

"I've missed you too." She almost said Batman, but was that in the past too?


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **I'm late with the new chapter, I know. The shutdown last week threw me off. We last saw Ranger and Step...err, Michelle at the beach for Christmas.**

 **Ranger** sat in his motel room after leaving the Plum household. Did his decision really come down to Julie or Michelle; Miami or Trenton? Julie had been a major part of his life for the last eleven months. Rachael, his ex-wife instinctively knew Julie needed to heal him and he needed her. Julie was an adolescent with a step-father and step siblings, she was feeling misplaced. Working with her biological father had given her a stronger sense of who she was and why she felt and acted the way she did. Julie was entering the dangerous years, adolescence, where she could get seriously off course; he should be around more to guide her. He had fallen badly during these years, would she?

Yet he wanted a personal life with Michelle. Stephanie had become Michelle a strong, confident, skilled woman, but still amazingly intelligent and glowing with love from within, the carryover from Stephanie. What he most feared when he first met Mitch the Bitch in Atlanta was Stephanie was lost, the glow, the love, the innocence forgotten.

Mitch was a force. In many ways right she was now the superhero, or superheroine while he had become Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne/ Steve Rogers (a.k.a. Captain America.) He knew he'd reclaim Ranger, he had known since he stood up and walked for the first time in the Rehab Center, but it was a work in progress. Maybe not Ranger the mercenary, but Ranger the man was growing inside of him again. Michelle/Mitch would be a perfect companion for the reemerging Ranger.

His father had helped clear the clouds in his mind, but he needed his mentor's sage advice. _Abuela_ _Rosa_ ; though over ninety years old, her mind was sharp though her body was getting old. He decided to take Julie along.

" _Bisabuela_ ," Julie gushed. "Merry Christmas, _¡Feliz Navidad_ _!"_

When Carlos was able to leave the rehab center, he began taking Julie to visit her _Bisabuela Rosa._ The two had gotten to know one another though Julie's Spanish wasn't much past Spanish Level II in school. Rosa beamed at the young adolescent, " _Ella se parece a ti,_ " the old lady whispered.

Julie texted _parecer._ Now she understood, her _bisabulea_ thought she resembled her father. Well duh!

 _Si_ , Carlos answered. Julie did look like him.

" _Carlos, "Estás preocupado_."

 _Abuela, Julie se está convirtiendo en una mujer."_

Julie understood her name, _mujer_ as woman, and guessed _convirtiendo_ meant something about conversion. She was grateful her _bisabulea_ didn't speak rapidly, giving her time to mentally translate. Maybe _bisabuela_ she was doing it on purpose.

 _"_ _Pero tu corazón lleva más problemas_."

 _Mi corazón se debate entre dos mujeres._ (My heart is torn between two women.)

Julie cut in, "Dad I know what you are saying, my Spanish is better. You are talking about me and Michelle. _Papá, ella es tu corazón."_

" _Tu tambien_ ," Ranger answered and proud Julie was picking up Spanish.

"I know Dad," Julie slipped back into English, "But you can visit, I can visit you wherever you are, we can text, Skype, Instragram and so on."

"Jewels it isn't the same as actually seeing, talking, and touching you. You are at the age where things happy quickly and I'd like to be there to help if you need," Ranger tried to explain.

Abuela _Rosa_ looked at her grandson, " _Carlos ella siempre estará en tu corazón, pero ahora necesitas a la otra mujer para completar tu curación"_ (Carlos she'll always be in your heart, but right now you need the other woman to complete your healing.)

Julie smiled, " _Sí, ella completa tu corazón. Ella es tu vida._ "

Rosa smiled, _"Tu hija es sabia más allá de sus años."_ (Your daughter is wise beyond her years.)

 **00000000**

"How was Florida?" Tank asked.

"Seventy two, sunny and the beach was perfect," she said looking out the window at the horizontal snow.

"Family?"

"Oh Tank, you wouldn't recognize Daddy, he's lost 30 pounds and has been working out. He's trim and shaves his head like you," she laughed.

Tank gave her the eye.

"And Grandma Mazur! She changed her hair to something modern, not a 60's perm do. Wow! She's so happy down there. Daddy thinks she's a hoot, now. I thought he hid from her, I think he was hiding from his wife."

"And your nieces?"

"Happy, completely happy. Mary Alice is no longer a horse. She doesn't have to pretend to be something else to be happy, she is happy. The most surprising is both have formed an attachment to Ranger."

Tank didn't need to say anything, his granite face betrayed much now that Michelle could read the cracks.

"He and Daddy visit frequently. I think Daddy is helping Ranger with PTSD or maybe vice versa. They are close. And the girls fawn and crawl all over Ranger as if he was their father."

"I take you talked more."

"He knows I don't want to leave Rangeman Trenton."

Tank motioned for her to sit. He settled himself into his office chair and sat back. "Ranger never expected to live beyond 30, tops 35. He knew he his time would come, a stray bullet, explosion, something. He set Rangeman up to run without him. You threw a big curve in his plans."

"I understand that now, but isn't there a place for him?"

"He's the CEO of Rangeman, but can you see him reading reports all day?"

She smiled, "No."

"He's a man of action. I don't know what he can do physically now. He's uncertain too."

"Could he start a new Rangeman?"

"What has made Rangeman successful is each office's core team served together. We know how each other thinks, reacts. Who would he select for his core team? Plus where would Rangeman go next?"

"Newark?"

"Big investment, that's a densely populated area. Look how we've had to realign for our expansion here. Newark office would be four times larger than here."

"Philadephia?"

"Possible. We'd have to be careful about not getting clients east of the Delaware as there are limited bridges; our response time would be compromised. That's why we haven't move across already. Other expansion possibilities include Richmond, Raleigh/Durham and Columbia, South Carolina. Another possibility is San Antonio. You have Air Force and Army there for recruits. The San Antonio/Austin area is exploding."

"So Rangeman could expand, but not with Ranger heading up a new office."

"I'm not sure."

"He said he might be able to work training new teams at Benning."

"I doubt that."

"Couldn't he train new teams for Rangeman expansion?"

"And who would help him?"

She just smiled.

Tank nodded. "My thoughts too, but first we have to help him think this up on his own. First step, get his head out of his rear end."

"I'm tugging gently. He needs to believe he came up with these ideas himself."

00000000

Joe Morelli paced around his living room, "I don't know what I'm going to do now, I really fucked up."

Terry Gilman sat on the couch examining the various stains wondering if a new couch is in order. "You've been fucked up ever since you got together with Plum when you were an FTA."

"She did help me clear my name. I thought maybe she'd be a good, normal wife; someone quiet to come home to."

Terry laughed, "You were aiming too low Joe. Do you really want a dull life with a wife who cleans all day does her bed duty once a night? Anyway, she doesn't have a domestic bone in her body unlike her sister. She'll be as big as Gina Trepenza when she hits 40, after all that pizza and doughnuts and so would your children. You want more Mooch Morellis?"

"I hear, she's changed."

"From what I saw in February, she has a dyke haircut and probably is playing on the other team now. You escaped by the skin of your teeth, Joe. She would have made you miserable."

"At least Manoso is gone. I heard he bought it in some South American raid; probably working for some drug king."

Terry looked at him like he was _El Estúpido Culo,_ "Joe he wasn't working for a drug king, he was working for the government trying to take out a tyrant. About 8 years ago when he was doing Special Ops for the Army, he crossed paths with a gun and drug runner. The US operation failed and the guy swore vengeance on all who participated. Manoso went down to end it once and for all."

"And got killed in the process. Good riddance."

"My uncle respected him."

Joe reframed from saying anything negative about Don Vito Grizzoli. "All I've ever wanted to be was a cop and now that's gone. I don't know what to do."

"You can work for me, for my family."

"Yeah right."

"We have legitimate businesses in need of smart people to run them."

"What type of businesses?"

"Bar….."

"I can't be around liquor either as a customer or a bartender; also nothing concerning drugs."

"How about construction? You've been remodeling this house, you know your way around a 2x6. We need inspectors to make certain the municipal inspectors are pleased with our work.

"A building inspector? I'm a cop, not an engineer."

"You facilitate the inspection. Each building has multiple inspections, contractors can't take time off to baby sit the inspectors, that's your job."

 **00000000**

Joe quickly learned his job was to protect other mob businesses supplying equipment to home builders. Plumbing equipment came from a mob business, electrical, wood, sheet rock. This costs the builders a bit more but they could pass it on in the sales price. In addition, the builders were expected to pay off certain inspectors. Rookie inspectors didn't know "the ways" and needed Morelli's intimidation as education. Of course Joe took a bit of each bribe for his facilitator services. Within a few weeks Joe was earning in two weeks what he earned in two months as a cop.

With his pockets well lined, he found Terry was more willing to allow him into her bed on a regular basis. We wasn't slowing being pulled into the mob, he was being sucked (no pun intended.) While he was enjoying his new found fame, he learned Terry was as possessive of him as he had been with Stephanie. She was trying to train him for better jobs, working him into the family even though the vestige of a cop inside of him was reluctant. The internal conflict was making him moody which enhanced his ability to do his job. To calm his nerves, he started drinking again.

 **00000000**

It was St. Patrick's Day. With no Irish background Michelle was surprised to find green tinted carnations on her desk when she came back from her morning appointments. Calling down to the lobby, "Carmichael, did you send these lovely flowers to me?"

"No Ma'am, the florist delivered them. Did you see the card?"

She smiled as she read the card, "May the luck of the Irish allow me to take you to dinner tonight, Love you Babe, Carlos."

Immediately she sent a return message, "Must be Cuban luck, I'm available. Love you back. Michelle."

The return text was more like Ranger, "19:00."

Spring was trying to break out in Mercer County. Trees were blossoming but the cold kept sneaking in ruining the seasonal transition. Michelle had mostly work clothes; pants and blouses; suits with a few dresses. She had not done distractions since coming back to Rangeman. The sexiest thing she could muster was a simple black sheath that showed her ripped shoulders and arms and the draped front emphasized her neck. It wasn't quite warm enough for the changing weather. The shoes were not 4 inch spikes but more conservative, 3 inches at most. Her jewelry collection was simple; one pearl necklace and earrings. Total. She chuckled, "A simple black dress and pearls. Nothing original here."

The knock on the door came exactly at 7 pm. Ranger had not lost his punctuality. She welcomed him in with a kiss on the cheek, "Welcome to Rangeman North." Stepping back she showed him her accommodations; modern if not Spartan. She had a studio unit, no separate bedroom. The couch became a platform bed. A small kitchenette occupied a portion of one wall. "At least the bathroom isn't a hideous brown and yellow," she tried to joke. "This is the smallest unit here since I also have a studio at Haywood. They serve my purposes."

"Babe this is actually comfortable and a lot more secure."

She smiled, "Hasn't had a firebomb thrown through the window yet." She picked up her long jacket and handed it to him to help her. "I'm starving, let's not be late."

Ranger hesitated, "Isn't this the time for the beast to roar?" referring to her stomach.

"That was caused by excess sugar in my gut and trapped air. Not something I like to admit. Since I changed my diet, the beast only quietly grumbles."

The drive was short to The Yardley Inn. As they entered the restaurant the hostess welcomed them. "Manoso," Ranger said simply.

After checking their coats, Ranger placed his hand on Michelle's back and guided her to their table at the back of the room, against the wall. There were here to eat, not to be seen.

"I've never eaten here, have you?" Michelle asked.

"No this is new to me too."

"Carlos, I eat simply now, so whatever you are having is fine with me."

His eyebrows arched a bit.

"After a physical Bobby and I had a long conversation about cholesterol, blood glucose, preservatives and maintaining muscle mass. Once I got off the sugar roller coaster I found I think more clearly, my emotions are better controlled and…the beast doesn't roar."

"No more Tasty Kakes?"

"Have you read the ingredients? I won't eat what I don't understand and I don't have a PhD in chemistry."

He smiled, "Will a Spring salad and grilled salmon suit my lady?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Oysters to start?"

"Ah, no, no seduction food plus I'm not keen on raw mollusks."

Dessert?

No.

Wine?

One glass only.

He stared and tipped his head, this was a different woman. Slowly a smile began, "Hello Michelle, you look lovely tonight."

"Carlos, thank you for inviting me."

As they ate their meal, the talked finding their new way together. Ranger put out his hand, "I've missed taking you to dinner, Babe."

She responded by placing her hand in his, "You were probably disappointed I didn't put on my usual sound show. I'm trying to learn self-control, no moaning at the table and no uttering my private thoughts out loud."

"Your eyes showed you were enjoying the meal and as for the utterings, it was often the only way any of us knew what you were thinking. You were too, restrained."

She laughed softly, "Restrained? Hardly. Anyway, who is calling the kettle black? You and your team show nothing."

"Babe."

"A proper Burg lady does not let her emotions or thought show. So sayeth Burg mothers."

"You would have never been a Step-Burg wife." he asked with a small smile.

"If I had, I'd be drowning in alcohol or drugs by now." There was no use bringing up her mother and sister, which was a dead issue.

She paused for a bit, "I hate for this to end Carlos, but I do have an early morning tomorrow."

He hesitated and before he could ask she said, "No, Carlos, it is too soon."

As they stood from the table, Carlos put his hand at the small of her back and kissed her short hair. "I enjoyed our dinner together. You are truly a lovely, competent woman Babe. I am so proud of you."

Most diners ignored their passage, but three stared; Terri Gilman, her uncle Don Guido Grazolli, and Joe Morelli.

"Isn't that Carlos Manoso?" Terry whispered.

Don Vito shook his head, "Rumors of his death are wrong."

"What the hell is he doing here? He doesn't run Rangeman anymore," Joe steamed.

Don Vito and Terry looked at each other amazed Joe didn't recognize Stephanie, but then he had consumed several drinks. Both had seen the short haired, ripped Stephanie about a year before. "He has family in Newark, maybe someone lives down here."

 **00000000**

Carlos walked Michelle to her apartment door. He was being a gentleman, respecting what she had said earlier. "Good night Babe, thank you for joining me for dinner." They kissed a very tender kiss, growing more passionate kiss.

As they parted she touched the side of his face, "I hope we can do it again soon."

"Bet on it, Babe."

She shut the door and leaned on it with a big smile on her face. "We might make it this time."

 **00000000**

Rangeman North was not a seven story building. The first floor was offices, second command, third housing. The gym was on the second floor.

"Hey Mitch," Mike uttered. Like Tank the large black man was short on words.

"Good date?"

"You spoke four words before 08:00? That's a new record," she kidded as she stretched her muscles before getting on the treadmill for a quick 5 mile run. She moved to the weights and worked on her shoulders. Mike spotted her. "Mike, it was dinner only. Carlos Manoso and I have a past. We are seeing if there is something that can be salvaged."

After showering and dressing for the day she was going through her reports when her phone rang, "Michelle, this is Al Moore. I've got a problem."

"Good morning Mr. Moore. Is the problem with our system or our services?"

No, no, I've got a problem with an inspector. When he saw Rangeman security in the Lakehurst house he went ballistic calling it subpar and ordered I put in a different system."

"What else?" Michelle asked squeezing the bridge of her nose. This wasn't the first call she had this week with this issue.

Al Moore chuckled, "How did you know there was more? He disallowed the placement of all fire and carbon monoxide monitors saying they needed to be reset elsewhere."

Michelle's turn to speak, "Let me finish, he also said the state license was improper and you'd have to file a state permit in addition to a county permit. But he could waive the state permit for a fee."

"You have heard it before, but you forgot we need to use Global Security equipment, rip out all Rangeman."

"That's a new wrinkle. Did you get this person's name?"

"No. He was very good at deferring giving his name."

"Mr. Moore I will handle this. Let me ask you one other thing, did this gentlemen insist you use other building materials?"

"He's aggressively suggesting in the Oak Lane home we need to be using different sheetrock. The stuff he's pushing is higher price and lower quality. Michelle, I'm not the only contractor having trouble."

"Who else?"

"Larry Morris and it sounds like the same man."

"I'd like to talk to Larry."

"I'll send you his number."

Michelle sighed, sounds like the mob has a new inspector who is overly aggressive. Picking up her phone, "Tank, I need to have a meeting with you and Hector, today."

Tank and Hector were waiting for her as she entered Tank's office.

"Coffee?"

She shook her head no. "Hector, take a deep breath, we've got a problem." She went on to tell them what was happening.

Hector was immediately typing on his laptop when he heard Global Securities. "Un momento, I need to use the big guns," his pet name for the computer with the "deep throat" search engines. After some creative swearing in Spanish he came back, "Global was founded about a month ago. Many corporate layers but comes to Grizzolis.

"Don Guido is getting into security systems?" Tank was surprised.

"He has interest in building materials; Global Securities may be Terri Gilman."

Michelle shook her head, "It just gets better."

"Yeah, it does," Tank said. "Our systems are malfunctioning up there. Hector when to look, someone is tampering with our equipment."

"Nice way to show the contractor Rangeman's unreliability. Hector do you know anyone at ADT and Guardian and other security companies?"

"Si."

"Ask if they know anything about Global Security. I suspect they'll rant about an overly aggressive inspector and maybe have a name."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Michelle opted for the professional non-office look; nice trousers, turtleneck sweater under a blazer, and sensible boots. She had let her hair grow a bit and now sported curls on top with shorter sides; less Mitch the Bitch, more Michelle NoLastName.

Entering the building department for Hamilton Township, Mercer County the dark skin man behind the counter with short hair smiled, "Where's Hector?"

"He's knee deep in plans expressing his anger in Spanish expletives, some I've never heard."

Malcolm chuckled, "Best be far away. What has my friend upset?"

"Either one of your inspectors is being a bit too aggressive on inspections around Pennington or someone is trying the skim the contractors."

Malcolm looked troubled. "Does this inspector have a name?"

"He's quick flashing all the legal documents but not giving his name."

"Better not be one of ours. They are required to hand out identification cards as well as wear their proper ID badges. What is this rogue doing?"

"He's requiring all Rangeman security devices are removed saying they are not approved by the county."

"Yeah, that's why half of our buildings are covered by Rangeman now. What else?"

"Suddenly our systems failing seemingly to support his claims. Our helpful inspector is pushing Global Security products."

Never heard of them, they aren't on our approved list.

Apparently they are a new company. Ironic isn't it? He claims Rangeman isn't approved but pushing one that isn't.

Malcolm typed on his keyboard. "Certification request submitted for Global three weeks ago. Denied by county fire marshal for poor construction citing the control panel is out of date and a potential fire hazard."

Michelle shook her head in disgust. "There's more. He's requiring incorrect placement of smoke and CO2 detectors, redesign of the fire suppression systems, and a surcharge for security systems on utility poles, citing new regulations by the electric company. Finally he's charging fees for state security permits."

Malcolm shook his head, "There is no state permit."

"Probably the permit fee goes into his pocket. Hector and his team are finding the failed systems are being vandalized. The damage is very specific, done by someone who knows how to bypass the control panel making it appear the system still works."

"I can't help you; it's more police business. Appreciate the heads up, so what CAN I do for you today Michelle Rangeman?"

"This inspector has building plans. The contractors on the homes with vandalized systems have not given him copies. The plans are coming from here. Can you run a search for who signs for plans? I have five contractors' names and building site addresses."

Malcolm shook his head yes and began typing. After several minutes Malcolm's uttered, "Damn…Hold on, I'll print the names."

"There's more than one?" Michelle's heart sank. As she waited for the printout she asked, "Do you remember any of them?"

Malcolm looked off, "Maybe one, white male, trim, brown hair cut tight, brown eyes. Not much to go on, but at least he's not a brother."

Michelle smiled, "Gotta start somewhere."

She didn't look at the list of names, just put them into her portfolio and continued on to her next appointment, to sign a security contract with an office building east of Princeton.

At 11:00 her phone rang. " _Hola, mi hermano, que pasa?_ "

Hector chuckled, "Ranger is upstairs with Tank."

"Ranger?"

 _"Si."_

"No doubt you are tracking me; you know it will take a bit to come in. Tell Les I have another contract, three story office complex in Penns Neck."

Walking into Tank's office, Tank, Lester, Ranger, and Hector were waiting for her. She wanted to walk up and kiss Ranger but held back, "Be professional Michelle," she told herself.

Lester had his twinkle eyes on high, he was up to something, " _Beautiful_ , I hear you have something personal for me?" Yes, he also wiggled his eyebrows.

She knew he had reverted by the nick name Beautiful and eyebrow tilt to rile his cousin, Ranger. "Unless you want me to kick your ass, you'll call me Mitch or Michelle." Without another word she handed him the contract.

Tank smiled, he knew what the two were doing. They loved each other like siblings and fought like siblings as well. Tank started the meeting, "Hector?"

Hector began, "I've talked with ADT and Guardian, and they too are having trouble with systems being vandalized."

"New home construction only?" Tank asked.

"No, also remodels. I have reported our eleven vandalized systems to the sheriff; ADT has had four, Guardian three. The others weren't going to report theirs, but when I told them of ours, they changed their minds. "

Michelle was listening while wondering why Ranger was sitting in on the conference. She didn't have time to worry about Ranger right now and got up and walked to the window, touching the wall on the way. Taking out her phone she called Larry Morris. The others watched her. All knew Michelle sometimes thought in a different universe, seeing problems before others.

"Mr. Morris, Michelle from Rangeman, I talked with you yesterday. You said the wall board you were being forced to purchase, other than the cost, why don't you like it?"

"For one, it 20% more expensive. All building materials are out of sight, but 20% on one of my homes will be $7,000. I'm not building million dollar homes, mine are more modest. $7,000 will mean I'll have to skimp on other areas to make a profit."

"I understand, but is there something wrong with the dry wall?"

"They don't have a label for manufacturer or origin country. In 2004 and 05 the market received drywall from China; when the material was exposed to humidity, if off-gassed hydrogen sulfide which corroded copper wires and pipes behind the walls. Homeowners were forced to replace the drywall, wiring and copper pipes.

In addition the lesser quality drywall core is often synthetic which means it burns faster and hotter adding to the smoke's toxicity. Another problem with that synthetic core, the darn stuff mildews easily as well, not just wet areas, but throughout the house."

"Is the hydrogen sulfide a health risk?"

"Stinks like rotten eggs, but doesn't appear to be as unhealthy as say formaldehyde from pressed wood. We also put an encapsulating first layer on drywall which would retard the smell, but the back side would gas-off affecting the copper pipes and wires.

Finally Michelle, whoever is manufacturing the drywall has a cheap ruler; the stated width and the actual width are different. If you mix brands as often happens, your walls end up uneven. Last week I had to refuse an entire shipment because the lesser sheets were mixed in. Checking the invoice, sure enough they tried to jack up the price of the inferior sheets in the mix."

"Who was the supplier?"

"My usual, B&G, but when I called to complain they explained they ran short a month ago and purchased drywall from another source."

Who was the other supplier?

"Allied Products."

Michelle turned and pointed to Lester, "Allied Products, have you done business with them?"

"Not any more. A year ago a different rep from Allied happened by wanting to supply our other supplies. I was, ah, _encouraged_ , to use them as a supplier. I fell for it the first time as their prices were pretty good, or so it seemed. When the products arrived they weren't industry standard. They sell common products; for example, in faucets I want brass drain pipe not plastic, I want chrome dressing not plastic, I want sweat joints not threaded yet the material they supply costs 10-20% more than what I'd pay for the same product from a DiY store. I want distributor quality, not common retail. I tried to return them to Allied but they blew me off."

Michelle listened, "Sir, basically they forced you to buy average quality at premium prices.

"Yeah and often sub-average. I fell for it once. Not anymore."

"Have they threatened you?"

"Not in so many words but it is implied saying I was under contract to them."

"What do you do?"

"Pay a bribe and tell them to get lost."

"I won't ask how much as it's not my business, but is it a one-time payment?"

"Sometimes."

"What about the inspection process?"

"I only deal with four inspectors I know. They work for the county and have all the documents and ID badges. They are honest and professional. If they aren't the ones on site, I cancel the inspection and call Malcolm at county and get my guys. This isn't my first rodeo; I know there are unscrupulous inspectors. It's the smaller contractors who are hit."

"Do you know any of the smaller contractors?"

"Not right off hand. If I remember or hear anything, I'll call. By the way, why is Rangeman asking?"

"A building inspector just happens to find Rangeman equipment not working correctly during inspections and insists they be removed and replaced with another brand."

"What brand."

"Global Security."

"Haven't heard of them."

"Apparently they are new."

"Damn, this doesn't sound good. "

"I take it you haven't installed a security system yet."

"This isn't a spec house, the homeowners are involved. They are still debating a system."

"Just for your information, ADT and Guardian are also being targeted."

"Are the police involved?"

"Coming on board."

"Michelle, thank you for the headsup. I'll let you know if I receive a visitor."

"Mr. Morris, this guy is cagey about giving his name, be careful."

After hanging up, Michelle continued to look out the window.

Tank cleared his throat and she spun around, "Sorry."

Michelle turned to Hector, _"¿Senior Mago,_ _qué has encontrado_? (Mr. Magician, what have you found?)

Hector held up a finger and dashed out of the office.

Ranger looked at Michelle, first surprised she asked a question in Spanish but also wondering where Hector had disappeared.

"Deep throat," she responded before he asked the question.

"What?"

"We've nicknamed the super-secret search engines on the security computer," she smiled.

"Since when do you speak Spanish?"

"I don't but I got tired of asking him what he has found in his research. I figured if he could learn English, I could try to speak Spanish."

Ranger chucked, "Babe, Hector was born in New York City. He has spoken English all his life but prefers people to believe he speaks Spanish only. Good intelligence gathering tool."

"I'm just now finding this out?"

Hector returned only to be greeting by Michelle hissing, "¡Tu rata!"

¿Qué?

"Que my ass, you I will meet on the mats."

Hector glanced at Ranger and decided not to give a reply. Clearing his throat, "Allied Products is a subsidiary of several other subsidiaries but it comes out, Don Vito Grizzoli."

Tank nodded, "I'm not surprised. Global Security is Terry Gilman, Allied is Vito Grizzoli. We already know Penchent Concrete is a Grizzoli owned business."

Ranger explained to Michelle, "When Penchent started they tried to get government contracts but their test batches failed government standards. They were a bit stingy on the cement in the mix. They corrected the error…eventually. They made their money working with builders and remodelers, always supply questionable quality concrete that fails after ten years."

"So they start their companies…..cheating…eventually going legitimate?" Michelle wondered.

"Eventually, but not before knocking others out of the playing field," Ranger replied.

"So the attack on Rangeman is their way of getting their foot in the door in security systems?"

"With the higher percentage of hits against our systems, it seems a bit more like revenge to me," Tank added.

"We need the rogue inspector's name."

 **"** Name! Wait!" Michelle dug in her portfolio. "I stopped at county building to talk to Malcolm hoping the trail of wayward building plans would give us a name. He reviewed several requests for our sites that have been damaged and came up with five suspicious names." She glanced down and immediately jumped to her feet, " _Minchia_!"

Lester shook his head, "It's bad, she's swearing in Italian again."

Gritting her teeth Michelle read: "Anthony Cravetti, Anthony Davidi, Anthony Romano, Anthony Gravelli, and Anthony Plumeri."

"Ok, so his first name is Anthony."

Michelle was still pacing, "I doubt that. Anthony Plumeri was my grandfather's name when he first came to this country. He changed it to Anthony Plum."

"Babe, it may be a coincidence."

"No, Ranger, you don't believe in coincidences and neither do I."

Tank spoke too softly, "This is an attack on Rangeman and maybe Michelle."

 **00000000**

As Michelle left Tank's office Ranger was close behind. "Babe, have lunch with me?"

"We can go to Bonefish?"

"Don't you want someplace closer?"

"I try to stay north of 95, away from Trenton and especially the Burg."

"Do you think you need to now? It's been a while."

"After what was just said in there, I'm more concerned about being seen with you. People will see you and wonder who you are with."

Once at the restaurant, Ranger asked, "Why don't you leave Trenton? I know The Deacon would hire you in a minute."

"And leave my family….my Rangeman family? Ella and Luis are my parents, Tank is my BIG brother, Hector my normal size brother and the rest of the guys are my friends or cousins. They stood by me when I was nothing; they helped form Mitch and Michelle. Carlos, you have a daughter, parents, sisters, brother, in laws, nieces and nephews, this is all I have…here. Daddy, Grandma Mazur, Angie and MA are in Florida."

"You could move to the Miami office."

She didn't answer instead concentrated on her fish. The Cobia, a Caribbean fish, asparagus, and salad were perfect for a late afternoon meal. She wouldn't need dinner.

Ranger was amused watching her eat something other than a meatball sub, "Enjoying your meal?"

"Carlos, yes this is wonderful. Why didn't I eat this before?"

"It's not Burg food."

"Nor am I a Burg woman anymore."

"You never were, Babe."

"I tried to be," she chuckled. "How I messed up the first 34 years of my life. I can't thank Tank enough for rescuing me. He and the others made me a new person."

"No, she was always there; he just cleared away the debris. I contributed to the debris, I'm sorry."

"Carlos, I keep telling you, it's all in the past. We both were wrong, running a mine field, trying to achieve separate objectives. We can't keep those dead issues out and beating them over and over. We have to move forward."

He was quiet for a minute. She has let go of the past, why can't he? "Michelle, I'm trying to let go of the past, the pain and the wrongs I inflicted on you. I'm drawn to you like I was before. I want to start back together with you, but not where we left off, I want to jump ahead, start anew."

"What are you saying Carlos?"

"Michelle….ah, I never hear you use a last name. Are you still Plum?"

"Initially I tried to give up the name and planned to change it, but now that I've reconciled with Papa I don't want to hurt him. I understand Helen has gone back to using Mazur."

"Helen?"

"She was never a mother to me and I refuse to use the term."

"That's why you don't use a last name, just Michelle from Rangeman."

She laughed, "Actually initially I called myself Mitch without a last name. People would get upset so I started adding "from Rangeman." When they'd ask why no last name I'd explain I was one of two women working for the company, I didn't need a last name."

"Babe, I'd like to work towards giving you a last name."

"Oh?"

"Manoso. I still have work to do on me, but knowing that you will be with me will encourage me to continue will make the task go faster. Ranger is not dead, he's just in the redevelopment stage, Ranger 1.1."

I think you are farther along than Ranger 1.1; let's say 3.0 or 4.0."

"I want to develop a committed relationship with you….for as long as you'll have me which hopefully will be until eternity."

"You know my stand now. No shack-ups, no recreational sex."

"I know Babe. I'm not asking you to marry me now, but it is my goal, hopefully short term goal. Right now I need to find a place in this world. I don't know if I can be helpful to Rangeman or a hindrance. I want to be relevant when I ask you to be my wife."

"Carlos, perhaps together we can find a way for you and for me, but we must work together, no hiding from one another anymore."

"Yes, I'm walking through a new door, one I never expected to find or open. It is a bit frightening as it's all new. My training doesn't cover these contingencies."

"That's why I'm here. God made woman not to be dominated by man, but to be is helper; not just a domestic helper but to help him in the world. If you want me, I'm here. I'm strong enough now I don't need to rely upon you to save me from myself. I can be your helper, partner in business and life."

"You have helped Rangeman already. Your ideas for the Trenton office have been profitable; maybe the other offices could use a review."

"Maybe. Have you considered starting a new Rangeman office?"

"Ah…"

"I know, only men you served with," Tank explained. "But there must be men or women within Rangeman or those coming out of services that have potential. All they need is Rangeman 101 education."

"More than level 101."

Laughing she said, "OK, 401 and post grad. Trenton could be the training office."

He looked thoughtful.

"Is there a service that Rangeman can add? We've hinted at investigation, Charlie and I have done some work together. He has had some experience with it in the Army, though he wasn't CID. Maybe he knows people coming out. There's also a K9 force."

"Dogs?"

"Yeah, Tank is pretty scary, but he might need help. "

Carlos sat and listened with a smile on his face. "They might in a fight over a bone."

She didn't roll her eyes, but thought about it. "What about bank and financial fraud?"

He scrunched his nose. "No, that would take too many number crunchers."

"Carlos, Rangeman remained confined here because of Trenton's size. Twenty three percent of Mercer County's population is there. I suggested the expansion to Hamilton Township and Princeton as together they added another 16%. To move beyond we encounter less dense populations and profitability drops. If Rangeman expands it has to expand to a denser population."

He tented his fingers and put his elbows on the table, "Maybe you should be running Rangeman."

"Bite your tongue! Rangeman needs Ranger and the sooner he gets back up in the saddle, the tighter the corporation will become again. I wouldn't mind being the _consigliere."_

"You don't work for Grizolli."

"OK, consultant and consort to the CEO."

"Babe, consort?"

00000000

As Michelle returned to work after lunch, Ranger telephoned Tank suggesting he set up a meeting. Something Babe said was playing around inside him. Normally Ranger would have set up the meeting, but Tank was the boss at Trenton.

Together the two men drove to Hamilton, on the east side of the New Jersey Turnpike to the 6,000 square foot, 2 story neo-Colonial.

They were shown to the private study by a man shorter than Ranger, muscular but showing a bit of a belly. "Too much manicotti," Ranger mused to himself. The older man behind the big walnut desk rose and shook their hands.

"Mr. Grizzoli," Tank refused to use the man's family title, "Thank you for seeing us on short notice."

Vito Grizzoli turned to Ranger, "News of your death was premature."

"I came close."

After the gentlemen sat, they didn't waste time on further niceties. "Why have you come out this way to see me? My office would have been closer."

"Privacy," Tank answered. "We are having trouble with our security systems near Pennington, home construction and remodels. They are being tampered with."

"Go on."

"After they are vandalized, the contractors are being told Rangeman equipment is inferior pointing to the unreliability. The contractors are being told to install Global Security products."

Ranger was watching Vito's face and briefly saw anger.

Vito responded, "Do you know who is doing the tampering?"

"We believe it may be one individual using a different name for various sites. The inside control panels are being expertly vandalized, the outside surveillance is being burned with lasers. In addition the inspector is suggesting heavily the indoor monitoring, smoke, fire suppression, carbon monoxide monitors might not be placed correctly but he is willing to talk to the appropriate county inspector to smooth out problems, for a fee of course."

Grizolli remained silent.

"Don Vito," Ranger began, "We ask, with respect, that you restrain your employee telling him hands off Rangeman equipment which is in full compliance with all building codes."

"My employee? How am I involved?"

Tank answered, "Perhaps you are not involved directly, but Global Securities is a subsidiary of Allied. Global is your niece's business. While this would make this Ms. Gilman's concern, this _inspector_ is also….encouraging…the contractors to use Allied product which is your concern."

Vito Grizzoli's eyes flashed.

Tank contined, "Mr. Grizzoli, perhaps Anthony, the name Ms. Gilman's employee is using is a bit too aggressive. We ask him to keep his hands off Rangeman equipment if it is already installed."

Tank and Ranger would not threatened Vito Grizzoli, making a request was enough. The meeting was essentially over. On the way back to Haywood Ranger casually mentioned, "Don Vito looked a bit upset."

Tank huffed, "Yeah, several times. He was surprised with the name and is also worried the inspector stepped over the line."

"Maybe or Terry is making a play against him. We need more surveillance off property."

"Hector is already working on it."

Don Vito Grizzoli picked up his telephone. "Terry my dear, I just had an interesting meeting with Mr. Sherman and Mr. Manoso from Rangeman. I'll put it bluntly, reign in your boy. His personal vendetta will destroy you and if it spills to me, I will be very unhappy."

"They can't hurt us."

"Not smart thinking my dear."

00000000

Terry sat across from Joe at Marcello's. They were nearly through their meal and bottle of wine. Terry only sipped her glass, Joes as pouring a third, "Don't you think you've hand enough?"

Joe remained morose, "It's a $75 bottle of wine and I'm not leaving any for the weight staff."

Terry was quiet for a bit then softly said, "I got a call from my uncle today?"

"Oh yeah, what did the godfather have to say?"

"Tank and Ranger stopped by to see him."

"Those fuckers; the baboon and the undead. What did they want?"

"Lay off vandalizing Rangeman equipment."

"What the hell, why do they think it is me?"

"They don't know who, just that is concerns Global which is me and I'm telling you, lay off installed Rangeman security systems."

"That _bastardo_ doesn't know how to die. At least his _puttana_ is gone to the Army."

Terry wisely remained quiet.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **The** moonless and cloudless sky provided no celestial night light in Mercer County's rural areas. The black pickup truck with minimal chrome drove unseen to the new home construction site. An hour later the rural fire department arrived to extinguishing what was left of the future 4,000 square foot home. Several nights later another home under construction burned to the ground. The homes had nothing in common, different contractors, different subcontractors, different bankers. No security had been placed on site nor had the contractors or future owners signed contracts with a security company. When the homes were rebuilt, both were rebuilt with Allied products and installed a Global security system.

Allied and Global had lowered their rates for contractor's who suffered loss be it from fire, stolen materials, or vandalism and discovered insurance didn't cover all damages. Curiously, as Global took on more customers, vandals and thieves who preyed upon building sites suddenly avoided Global covered properties. The company illustrated the improved safety statistic on the sites but in reality word "out," hands off Global properties or else.

Meanwhile, Joe Morelli was expanding his job description without Terry's or Vito's approval. In addition to greasing the skids of the home building inspections for a fee, he was busy coming to the rescue of contractors and home remodelers, who had suffered a loss. Recently he had started a new venture; Joe would stake out the building supplies stores and follow the homeowner home who carried drywall, cabinets or other permanent building materials. He'd note the address and return a few weeks later demanding to see the building permit. If none was presented, he wrote a citation and told the offender if they immediately signed out the required building permits instead of going to the county office, he would over-look the citation. Homeowners who really didn't know if they needed the permit were grateful for the assistance. None of the money went back to the county.

 **00000000**

Vito Grizzoli sat in his office listening to his _consigliere_ and his team of accountants. He remained calm on the outside. Inside he seethed.

"Don Vito, we have serious concerns about your niece's venture into business. Global Securities has not been approved for use in Mercer County due to fire hazard with the control panel. The operating permits Global is issuing are bogus. County inspectors are being paid to look the other way."

"None of the control panels have caught fire?"

"Not yet."

"Who is paying off the inspectors?"

"Joseph Morelli."

"He was hired to facilitate inspections for us. Where is his payoff capital coming from?"

"Apparently he is also working as a Global representative with your niece's approval."

"Go on."

"We have noted a surge in Allied Products sales going into home construction along with Global Security systems. Apparently Global is being represented as a subsidiary of Allied and Penchant Concrete."

"They aren't. Terry was told to keep Global Security separate. You read the incorporation papers."

"That's the way it was originally set up but sources within Bustatello's law office indicate he is redrafting the articles of incorporation putting Global under Allied."

Don Vito was silent for a while. He nodded slowly, "What do you believe is her goal?"

"Don Vito, we foresee Ms. Gilman working towards a hostile takeover of Allied and Penchant once Global's stock improves in value."

"I concur. Is Global growing even without county approval?"

"Yes, contractors who suddenly experience a loss be it fire, vandalism and theft are buying Allied and Global products at a reduced rate?"

"How charitable," he said through gritted teeth. "Is there reason to suspect the losses are part of the sales approach?"

"Though we have no proof at this time, there is word on the street to stay off Global Security property or disappear."

"This is after the building site's loss or before?"

"After."

Don Vito remained quiet and contemplative. None of this was going on before Terry brought Joe Morelli into the business. He knew Morelli was not the most sterling cop before, but did his fall into drugs loosen his hold a bit more?

"Mr. Castello, we need to investigate Joe Morelli a bit more carefully especially considering his recent vacation in narcotics. I'm not surprised at Terry's enthusiasm but I find these actions a bit too dangerous even for her."

Vito turned to his _consigliere_ , "A visit to Mr. Bustatello's office is in order."

"I have an appointment for 2 pm today, Don Vito."

"All attempts to tie Global with Allied or Penchant must cease. Only Terry's name must be on Global Security papers. Isolate her. Go through Allied and Penchant and make sure she is has no interest in the two companies. Also, thank our informant in the law office. Loyalty should be rewarded."

"Yes sir."

 **0000000**

Ranger called a conference of all the Rangeman heads in the four cities: Boston, Trenton, Miami and Atlanta. His rehab of mind and body was winding down; the desk job of corporation CEO was too stifling. He needed to be more active. Tank immediately offered to step down, but Ranger and the other cities quickly vetoed Tank's offer.

"You have run Trenton well before in my absence and continue to do so now. Your recent reorganization show you have a keen business sense."

"Give Michelle most of the credit," the big guy mumbled.

Initially the other three cities were very interested in how Michelle and Tank had restructured Trenton and suggested Michelle and Tank should come to their cities for reorganization.

"Trenton was a good trial run as the population is contained. I know I'll be interested in seeing how the auxiliary offices are staffed, managed and their work with the head office," said Patrick of Boston. "We've played around with numbers, accounting, but just don't have the handle."

Ranger nodded, "She has always thought on a different plane than the rest of us. I believe she will do all of Rangeman well, but personally I'm looking for a new avenue within Rangeman."

The four city heads were quiet until The Deacon uttered, "Are we are back to discussing expansion again."

Patrick from Boston added, "But we hit the core team problem. We've been out of service, we don't have a fresh pool of possibilities from which to choose."

Ranger cut in, "What if we recruited core teams and trained them in Rangeman procedures?"

"Sounds like a Rangeman Academy?"

"Something like that. We have current employees who are not core team, but would be the first choices for filling core vacancies. These are ones who have shown leadership, command, intelligence, initiative, and reliability. We could add business and …

"Social skills," The Deacon chuckled.

"Well there goes half my crew," Patrick chuckled.

Ranger smiled his tiny smile. The others knew he was actually laughing inside. "We could move our employees already trained in our procedures to initial auxiliary offices while we train potential core teams. By having units already trained we can move into new auxiliary sites or even new cities."

"We will still need to assess their mental condition," Marco cautioned.

"That goes without saying. We still have the PTSD issues to overcome. Up to now we've relied on contract mental health professionals to supplement our on-site medics. I'd rather not hire a full time head banger unless necessary."

"Who would do the training?"

Ranger said simply, "Initially me and my Core Team here plus Michelle and then regional training as a new city is explored. For example, The Deacon has a better handle on the needs in the south, Marco in Florida, Patrick in New England."

"So the four offices now would become Regional Rangeman headquarters?"

"That's one way to look at it."

"Are we talking potentially a large scale expansion?"

"Not initially. The auxiliary headquarters would be our first expansions. As we fill an area, we can look to new regions."

"If Trenton becomes the training site, you'll need more space. Haywood is totally occupied."

"We'll convert one of our safe houses into a training facility. Also, thanks to Michelle's reorganizing our finances, we own several buildings on Haywood we can convert to supplemental housing and classrooms."

"Damn Ranger, why didn't you marry her before? You've wasted years."

Ranger nodded. "Yeah, things has to be cleaned up first. She and I are now working on it."

"You damn well better be," The Deacon muttered.

Both Tank and Ranger knew The Deacon carried a torch for Michelle/Mitch the Bitch. If both men were gone, he'd be courting her full time.

 **00000000**

"How did the board meeting go?" Michelle asked as she sat in the Rangeman SUV at the airport picking up Ranger and Tank.

"Babe, they want to think about the expansion to new cities but they are very interesting in the auxiliary headquarters. Looks like you and Tank will have a dog and pony show."

"What about you? What about Princeton?"

"First order is for you to train your replacement. While you two are away, I'll help Les hold the fort here. You and Tank need to work up a curriculum and estimated training time."

"Road trip, Big Brother. This time no snow caves."

Tank smiled, "Hard to build in Miami."

 **00000000**

"Sir, you do not have an appointment. Before I talk to you, I need to see your identification and your certification," the voice came through the microphone on the security panel by the front gate.

"I'm here to see the contractor, Lincoln Tilman."

"Sir, I need to ascertain and verify your identity first," came the bodiless voice.

"Fine, fine." The man pulled out his state employee identification and the county building inspector badge and held it up to the camera on the security gate."

"Mr. Plumeri, ah, Anthony Plumeri, I need to verify this with Mr. Tilman as he does not have you listed on the permitted entry list."

"Ma'am, I'm with Mercer County. I'm on a tight schedule."

"Yes sir, I saw your credentials. I will be contacting both Mr. Tilman and the county before I let you in," the bodiless voice continued.

"Ma'am, that will take time. It would be better if I make an appointment with Mr. Tilman for a later visit," the man said and he pulled his truck back into the street away from the security gate and drove away.

"Shit," Joe Morelli muttered to himself, "I'm going to have to burn the Plumeri ID."

The middle age housekeeper watched the truck pull away and noted the rear license plate was unreadable. She continued her call to the country building code department and talked to Malcolm.

Malcolm called his friend Hector at Rangeman. "My friend, I just had a very interesting call from Judge Bankshaw's housekeeper in Hopewell. A man posing as a building inspector tried to gain entry to the expansion of the south wing. The housekeeper demanded his name and credentials as he was not on the approved list. He left while she was calling us."

"Please tell me she got a name," Hector said with hope.

"Anthony Plumeri."

Hector's recognized it. "One of the names you gave Michelle several weeks ago."

"Yes."

Hector's fingers danced over his keyboard. "There's no such person in Mercer or surrounding counties." Hector's fingers continued typing, "Judge and Mrs. Bankshaw on Pembrook in Hopewell are Rangeman clients."

"Hector, I've already contacted the county sheriff. They told me while it is suspicious; they have no crime at this time."

" _Gracias_ Malcolm, we'll follow up with the Bankshaws and the sheriff."

Hector moved to another computer and called up the address in Hopewell and watched the day's monitoring. The site had the newest and most expensive Rangeman surveillance cameras starting with the front gate and walls. The new system was virtually undetectable to the casual viewer. Most people never knew they were being monitored. The Bankshaws were very wealthy and very private people. Both were also physically handicapped, Judge Bankshaw from strokes, Mrs. Bankshaw had limited eyesight from macular degeneration. The housekeeper took her job of protecting the Bankshaws very seriously. She has worked for them for most of her life; after all, Mrs. Bankshaw is her sister.

Hector fast forwarded to the time a white pickup pulled up and the man leaned out and touched the call button. Hector enhanced the screen and smiled, " _Hola pendejo_."

Hector printed the picture and called Tank who in turn called in Charlie and Michelle; Hopewell was within Charlie's jurisdiction.

As Hector started up the stairs, he met Ranger in the stairwell also going up. "Come, I have a surprise."

Once Michelle, Charlie, Tank, Hector, Lester, and Ranger were in the office, Hector began, "I received a call from Malcolm at county building. The house keeper for Judge and Mrs. Bankshaw had a visitor at the front gate demanding a meeting with their contractor. The housekeeper demanded the man show identification as their contractor, Richard Tilman, had not indicated additional people would be coming to the site. The man at the gate indicated he was a county building inspector and showed his identification with his name clearly visible, Anthony Plumeri."

Michelle stiffened.

Hector smiled a grim smile and handed the picture to Michelle, "You know this man?"

Michelle looked at the picture and Mitch the Bitch burst forth with expletive Italian, " _Cavalo, che palle_ , that _Figlio di puttana._ " She showed the picture to Tank who stuck to Spanish, " _Mierda_ " and passed the picture to Ranger. Only Charlie didn't know who the picture was so Hector whispered to him, "Joe Morelli."

"The ex-cop?"

" _Si_. A real dick."

By now Mitch was on her feet accidently mixing her Italian expletive with Spanish thanks to Hector's teachings, " _Pinche vaffanculo hijo de puta, Tonto del calo stronzola, pinche lucaculo….."_

Hector, Tank and Ranger smiled at the mixed languages. Charlie spoke Spanish but got the drift. Tank and Ranger both stood to calm her down, Tank sat back down. Ranger wrapped his arms around her, " _Tranquilo querida, tranquila_."

The old Stephanie would be crying by now but Mitch the Bitch pushed Ranger back and stormed out the door screaming, "Morelli _que te tolle un pez._ " (Go F* a fish)

The two men on the monitors Cal and Bobby both understood the rant and added their own "amen."

Ranger followed her to the gym and watched as she beat the stuffings out of the punching bag. The hits and kicks were brutal, sweat poured off her body when she finally resigned and sunk to the floor. He remembered Stephanie avoided the gym at all cost, but here she was using the equipment the way he and other Rangeman men did, to work off anger. Each day he was amazed how much she had changed and taken control of her life.

Ranger went over and stooped down, "Babe" and held her from behind. He wasn't sure she was yet finished with her anger and didn't want to risk a left cross to the face. Mitch had learned how to fight.

"I'm OK Ranger, I won't let that _puta madre_ come between us…again."

Ranger chuckled, "I'm glad your swearing is in Spanish, no way could I learn Hungarian. Come on Babe, let Bobby look at your hands."

Bobby had been replaced at the monitors and was waiting in the clinic.

The sweat soaked Michelle with hair plastered against her head came into the clinic sheepishly, "I think I broke a few nails." Mitch had vanished.

Taking her hands into his, Bobby said softly, "Hopefully no more than your nails. Next time put on the gloves," Bobby admonished.

"And ruin my manicure?" Michelle playfully replied before she hissed in pain.

Both men shook their heads and wondered if a bit of Stephanie peeking out. "I'd expect you'd let the polish dry first," Bobby smiled back. Looking carefully, "Michelle, I need to xray your right hand."

"It doesn't hurt…much."

"Babe, even I am suspicious of those first two knuckles."

"Once we get an xray, then you'll need a stitch over this knuckle. A butterfly won't hold the skin."

Modern technology had the xray result instantly. "The second knuckle is cracked, Michelle. You'll need to wear a splint for three weeks."

"But I need to qualify on the weapon's range."

Both men laughed and shook their heads. "Don't tell me Ram didn't teach you to shoot left handed," Ranger admonished.

'Oh yeah, forgot."

 **00000000**

Meanwhile Tank, Lester and Hector decided to send text or email alerts to all Rangeman customers warning them not to allow any county inspector onto their property or into their homes without first contacting Malcom Jefferson at county building and reminding them at any time they are uncomfortable with someone seeking admittance, to press their "panic" button on their main control panel.

Nobody knew what Joe Morelli was up to at the Bankshaw house but none felt it would be harmless.


	18. Chapter 18 again

Chapter 18

A/N: Lots to say: First, once again formatting clogged my initial posting attempt. Thanks for all your patience, yes FF is a PITA. This chapter has unnecessary verbiage that clogs the story line….but the info may help a reader now or in the future.

Second, I was not going to orphan this story….so many here on FF/JE they are never finished.

Third, My Muse ran off with Lester and his Lady…..you'll see in a new story. The Muse has also been playing with an often requested update to Devastation and another Tank gets the girl story.

Joe is still alive here, sore, but still alive.

00000000000000000000000000

It was now 20 months since Stephanie Plum ceased to exist. Michelle was negotiating the traffic down 93 to the Haywood office as she thought about the last year and a half.

Was she happy as Michelle? What all had she learned? The list was long: Self-respect, confidence, poise, recognize problems and formulate solutions before she was covered in garbage, taxidermist foam, or any of the other mishaps. Did she miss spaghetti in her hair, jelly doughnut goo on her t-shirts, unmentionable stuff covering her body, black eyes, split lips, torn jeans? No, those were Stephanie Plum's problems. Another thing she didn't miss was feeling she must constantly apologize to her mother, Joe, and the Burg. She was the normal one, everyone else was NUTS! But was she happy?

What she had learned from Tank, the Rangeman men and the therapist Bobby brought in was happiness doesn't come with the end of pain or crisis. Nor can happiness occur when pain or crisis is present. Instead we must prepare ourselves and look for happiness, not wait for it to fall in our laps.

First we must let go of what scares us and the judgment. Fear is human and can be controlled, but irrational fear must be overcome. Strangely she knew Ranger's fear; her being killed or injured because of his life. Defining her own fears were harder; rejection and loss of self were the topmost. As for judgement, boy between Dickie, Joyce, Mar, Joe, her mother and the Burg, she had been buried in judgement. Why did she let it bother her? The answer was simple, because of her lack of self-confidence.

Happiness isn't assured; the pursuit of happiness lies in the ability to let control our fears, enough to experience the present moment, unencumbered by judgment. Happiness wasn't going to cure her problems; happiness would be the result of controlling her problems.

Michelle remembered Tank's teachings in the cold north. "Life is filled with ups and down. We often forget the ups and dwell on the downs, wallowing in the abyss. We must be prepared, not just for what may immediately happen, but will be unavoidable; illness, old age and death. It will happen to us but also to the people around us, the people we love. Rather than be caught off guard, we need to prepare ourselves for the anguish but not let the anguish control us. It is the only way we can climb back out." She remembered wondering how much anguish he had endured through his life and how his gruff exterior actually hid a very caring person.

The Big Man also taught her physical and moral pain need not destroy life. If your inner being is sound, then the external is easier to endure and recover. Tank hinted this is why he returned to the Church.

Happiness does not come because one wishes it. This was always a problem for her, her day dreams, wishes for mother's love, a job that paid all her bills, a committed relationship, respect, and on and on. They were dreams but she did nothing to obtain them.

How many times did Ranger offer her better paying jobs inside Rangeman where her skills were suited, but she turned it down as being boring or loss of her independence? Or she had something to prove to whom? Her family? Joe? The Burg? Or herself? How often did Ranger say he was not into committed relationships but was willing to continue their friendship with benefits? She had allowed her mother-Helen into her head insisting Stephanie must be a wife and mother. Why would she bother with wife if motherhood was nowhere on the playing field; not with Joe or Ranger? Or did she want her mother's bland life of clean windows and dry pot roasts?

Happiness comes by cleaning out one's cluttered closet and let judgment and emotions to flow free in and out. Thoughts are not actions; they are chemical reactions in the brain. The key is to maintain the even flow in and out, we can't prevent entry but we can keep the door open to let them flow out again. When we act upon or allow the thoughts to get caught like flotsam in our brain that is where problems begin. Logismoi Tank called it, some Greek term.

Is happiness the total pursuit of pleasure? How many Ben and Jerrys or Boston Creams has she consumed in pursuit of pleasure? Thankfully they were her only vices. What damage would she have done with gambling, alcohol, or sports addiction? When consumed to excess there was no lasting pleasure and sometimes suffering; the gambler's empty pockets to where the family suffers, the alcoholic's failing health, the sports addict putting family behind the addiction. Happiness comes with joy, emotional positive joy, but also the absence of suffering. Michelle realized she had to be mentally and spiritually strong enough to endure pain, judgment, fear before she could experience happiness. Going to church with Tank, Ella, Luis or Manny has helped.

So where has she discovered happiness? She found it in her neutrality, between pleasure and pain. The point of letting go, not struggling, losing one's ego; the "I" need or "I" want, or "I" must have is allowed to float away. Logismoi. By tearing down the ego-centric desires, she relaxed and experienced life in the moment. It was like perpetually being at Point Pleasant watching and listening to the waves.

When Michelle let go of her need for her mother's love, the need to show people she was not her mother's disastrous daughter, the need to show she's not Morelli's train wreck, she didn't need to constantly have a man in her life or bed and instead concentrated on creating a stable person who set priorities of job, shelter, health then her life began to simplify and she found happiness in accomplishments and friendships. From there she began giving of herself, to Charlie's daughter, to the women's shelter, to the local food bank. She may still be a lousy cook, but she can pack a food donation box and deliver it to those in need. She still comforts ill or injured Rangeman and now fills in for them at work, no compensation.

And with the simplification, or actually the untying of the knots that bound her, happiness has come in. She loves her job, never before could she say that. She is good and always working to get better. Her clients see her concern for them and her competency; they in turn greet her with warmth and sincerity often inviting her to social functions. She has not wasted her money on clothes and jewelry. Her clothes closet is not cluttered with shoes seen on sale at Macy's. Her physical and mind clutter were gone. She felt free and if needed she could fly. Actually she did fly with Lester from a hang glider up by East Orange. She wondered if Ranger would go hang gliding.

Ranger? Her mind snapped awake. Where was her relationship with him heading? She found herself wanting to move to the next level but was he yet on the same plane? At least he mentioned he was working in that direction. That was progress, of sorts. Right now, though, Ranger and relationships would have to continue to simmer as she was at the Haywood Street office. Today she would be interviewing two women as one might replace her in Princeton. After reading both resumes, both she and Tank might end up out of a job as both women appeared, on paper, to be excellent prospects.

"Hey Michelle, what's with the big smile?" Bink asked as she entered the Rangeman building.

"I get to see you and my Rangeman brothers. You all put a smile on my face, well, maybe not Lester."

Bink laughed and waved as he headed into the parking garage.

She sat in what was once Ranger's office but now was totally Tank's; new furniture, different neutral colors and pictures of his cats on his desk. Yes, Tank needed a woman.

She flipped through the files: Erika was a tall blond from Minnesota. She served 10 years in the Army National Guard, saw two tours overseas, but not in a female engagement unit. Her degree was in business marketing.

Cyrene was a dark skin former Marine major; three tours in the Middle East; combat, wounded now had a prosthetic leg. Her degree was in business operations.

Tank sighed, "It may take two women to replace you."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed.

"Neither one covers everything you do, together they don't cover what you do nor I'm sure either is qualified for 5th floor."

"Don't prejudge Obi Wan Kanobe."

Tank chuckled, "You mean I can't be Darth Vader for the interviews?"

She smiled, "The Marine will love it." Her mind flashed, "Did Ranger and Tank have this casual interaction?"

Both women interviewed well. Erika was up front about being a lesbian and would not be put off by working around all the men. After all, she was raised with five brothers, no sisters. Cyrene had the no-nonsense attitude of a Marine. Though her degree was in business, Michelle was having trouble seeing her dealing with new clients, she lacked…empathy.

Both had been encouraged to bring clothes for physical and weapons testing. At the end of our session we were all rather sweaty. After quick showers we changed into black Rangeman t-shirts before going for lunch. Time was limited so we opted for a Burg location. Lester suggested Pino's and I almost vetoed it but figured, it's been eighteen months, why not? I wasn't missing the meatball sub, just Pino himself.

Lester caught my uneasiness, "Is Mitch joining us?"

"Oh, I hope not."

Erika got the meatball sub, on my suggestion, Cyrene and Lester ordered a pie to split and I channeled my inner Ranger and got a salad with chicken breast.

Lester laughed, "Remaining undercover?"

The two women didn't understand and she wasn't in the mood to explain.

Lester was not being his usual lecherous self of old, but actually almost business like, but he slipped a few times. He knew he was dead meat with Erika but curious about Cyrene. I sat and watched; being an observer can be fun.

Suddenly Lester's eyes narrowed and whispered quietly, "Aw shit, Morelli walked in." Les looked at me and saw Mitch the Bitch in ascension, "You cannot shoot him. We've got to let him hang himself."

Les was facing the door. Morelli could see only profiles of Erika and Cyrene, and an unknown back. In the meantime Les filled Erika and Cyrene in on the highlights of the low-life now known as Morelli. "Former TPD detective, got himself fired for moral and drug issues, used to be boyfriend of Michelle, now screwing himself with the mob, county and state government and probably the FBI at some point."

Both women looked at Michelle, "Welcome to Chambersburg, the district time and sanity fucked over."She reached into her pocket and pulled out reflective sunglasses as Morelli was angling towards the table.

"Santos, Rangeman hiring Dykes on Bikes? These three look like they could give you quite a work out."

Before Morelli continued Michelle spoke up, "This is Marine Major Cyrene Green, this is Army Sergeant Erika Petersen, show some respect douche bag."

"And who are you?" He looked down not recognizing Michelle with my short hair on the sides, curls on the top, and chiseled face. OK, a red rinse made the color a rich auburn. It wasn't Bozo orange as a previous excursion into hair madness.

She lowered my sunglasses and let her blue eyes bore into him, "Your worst nightmare Morelli."

"Cupcake?"

She wanted to pull her weapon and rid the world of the Morelli curse but didn't want to spend the rest of her life in jail because of this filth. Using a very low voice, she said, "I told you over a year ago never to call me that or so help me I'll rip your boys off. Leave asshole before I decide which one I'll remove first."

Morelli huffed up in defiance so with lightning speed Mitch, not Michelle,I had his privates in hand and gave a good "grab, yank, and twist" and uttered, "Maybe both at the same time."

Morelli gasped and backed off. He finally uttered, "God damn Army bitch" before walking out of the restaurant.

Lester folded his hands and placed his elbows on the table. His eyes were sparkling and there was a big smile, "Ladies, say hello to Mitch the Bitch."

Eddie Gazarra, appeared out of nowhere, "Steph…Michelle," he said laughing. "The last time I saw you in here was two Valentine's Days ago and you dropped that _figlio di puttana_ to the floor holding his jewels. Things never change. You still go for the prize."

After introducing now TPD Detective Eddie Gazarra to Erika and Cyrene she asked if she could speak to him privately. "Eddie, what I'm going to tell you is preliminary, the investigation is early, but Joe may have crossed over to the Family side."

When she finished Eddie was shaking his head, "We've been getting intel from the county. I was going to come to Rangeman in the next few days to talk with Tank or Lester. I didn't know you were working for Rangeman. So far the FBI isn't too interested. I can't imagine Grizzoli letting it get to that point."

As we finished talking two big Rangeman, Ram and Hal moved into Pinos and stood by the door.

"Escorts?"

"Yep, we have two unarmed civilians here and a very sore Morelli out there," Lester chuckled.

Erika looked a bit pale, Cyrene looked pissed she wasn't armed. At least one would become a Rangewoman.

After consulting with Charlie, Les and Tank as well as Bobby, they came to the conclusion, Charlie would take over Michelle's district; Princeton and east, Erika would work western Mercer County and our lady Marine, Cyrene would be hired for the Haywood office for both administration and back up support.

0000000000000000000000000

It was the night before Tank and Michelle would take their dog and pony show to Boston for a week, more if needed. The evening before we left Ranger invited me out to dinner at a fancy place in Princeton.

"I'm going to miss you."

"This is quite the reverse. It was usually you leaving on a mission."

"It's been a roller coaster year and half Babe. Right now I'm fighting an internal struggle, keep you here or join you in Boston."

She was horrified, but before she could say anything, he continued, "But I won't. This is your turn to fly. In the past I was the elite soldier, the mercenary, the businessman, but now I must step aside."

"Ranger you were and are my mentor."

"Not always, Tank and the Core Team took over when I couldn't. We are so proud of you."

"You said step aside, are you bowing out of our lives?" The very thought sent panic through her body.

"Quite the opposite; I'd like to become a bigger part of Michelle's life. Babe, I fell in love with you in that tiny diner seven years ago then just a day or two later you called me to uncuff you from your shower rod. You trusted me without knowing me. I was hidden inside Ranger Manoso Bad Ass but you saw right into me. I couldn't let you in, there were Guzman and others, I wasn't going to endanger you because I thought you were weak and unstable."

She couldn't help but laugh out loud, "Unstable…you were right. Not too weak, just headstrong and untrained."

His smile was small but pure, "Unstable wasn't the right word. I'll stop before I dig my grave. It turned out Babe, you had more baggage to clear than I did. Thanks to Tank and the Core Team plus the other Rangeman you have been transformed from the caterpillar, through the chrysalis stage to become a magnificent butterfly. I am in awe of the transformation, but also afraid you'll fly away. I will not clip your butterfly wings. If you have to soar beyond me, my heart will be broken but I'll let you go to the sun."

OK it was time to for sweaty palms, but before she could work up a good shine, he took her hand. "I don't want to chase after you with a net, I want for us to be together wherever we need to go for as long as we have together."

They had only skirted around the marriage idea. "Is this because I'll be traveling to the other three Rangeman offices?"

He was startled with the question and maybe for an instant looked hurt. "No Babe, well not the way you are thinking. I trust you….even with The Deacon. I'm going to miss seeing you but if I know a little bit of me is with you on these trips will help me to remain calm." He pulled out a diamond and sapphire ring, "I would hope you'd glance down at your hand and know there is love, total devoted, committed love, waiting for you."

She didn't know what to say so fell back to the cliché, "There's so much we need to talk about…"

"Is there really? You said you've dismissed the past and so have I. It's gone and can't be undone but we can work on the future. We've talked, dreamed, what more is there to discuss? What happens with Rangeman happens; we are the ones who have to adjust. Babe I haven't made love or had sex with anyone else since the first time with you. You are and have been the only one for me for years, truly the only woman I have ever loved. Only God knows how long I will live, but I want that time in your arms. Will you marry me?"

She looked at the ring, it was about a four-carat sapphire with diamond baguettes on the sides.

"Babe, if you must, think of it as a promissory ring. I want you to pick out your wedding set. You can use this or something entirely different."

She began to nod, "Yes Carlos I accept this ring as an engagement ring. I will marry you. You are the only one I want at my side and in my arms. I have my Rangeman brothers, but you are my mate, my heart, my love, and my best friend."

"Even more than Tank?"

"I believe we have more of an avuncular relationship now."

"I once told him if I died I wanted him to marry you."

"What?!"

"To keep you safe. As you have discovered, he has a very loving heart and in time you two would click. Instead he went beyond my orders and made you Wonder Woman."

She didn't know what to say and just stared at the ring. Yes, Tank deserves a woman, someone better than Lula. He shouldn't end up as the old man with a house full of cats.

"Let me slip it on your finger." Once it was on, he kissed the ring, "I seal my love for you with this ring."

Michelle thought of something, "It's too late, but you should have had a golden rope bezel holding the stone; Wonder Woman's Magic Lasso or the Lasso of Hestia.

Ranger broke into a giant smile and laughed out loud, "We'll do that for the bridal set and make a man's ring as well."

That's right Batman.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Eímai láthos- Mea culpa- Lo siento- I'm at fault!

I lost my thread on this story. While I have two other stories written and nearly ready to proof, I refused to carry on with them until I finish this.

Joe pulled his pickup into the driveway, slammed the gearshift into park, and set the handbrake. Home. At some point, it would have been a nice starter home for a family. When the house was built in the early 20th century, daily bathing was unusual. Joe added the downstairs bath lavatory and the shower in the tub upstairs. Not much else had changed. Though the house came free and clear to him, he had to take out a mortgage to pay for his legal expenses. The mortgage was something he hadn't planned on. He wanted to get a cabin someplace nice, not pay the bank each month.

He grabbed several beers and went to the couch to sit. He was still sore in the "man" region thanks to that Army bitch. It had been a week now and he was still having trouble getting an erection. The Italian Stallion was sidelined for a while. He had a score to settle with her. Since two Christmases ago when he and Terry were caught kissing each other outside his home, his life had spiraled down. It seemed like years ago when Manoso told Joe he was going to ask Cupcake to marry him. Joe had already decided not to marry Stephanie. He would continue to play along with marriage intentions, but all he was interested in was the sex. He had his house, his truck, his new billiard table, large screen TV. He didn't need a wife and kids, just a fuck buddy and cover so he could continue to screw Terry Gilman. With Manoso planning on marrying Cupcake, he had to make a move before that s.o.b. took her away and Joe's reputation in the Burg was lost. He could hear the gossip already: 'The Italian Stallion couldn't finish the deal with Stephanie Plum'. Joe and Ranger had been in a pissing contest and Joe was not going to lose. He bought a cheap ring off a TV shopping channel and presented it to her to keep her corralled. With Helen Plum's help, Joe forced her to stop working for Plum Bail Bonds and cut off all ties with Rangeman.

Soon the pressure to set a date became unbearable. First his mother, then Helen Plum, his fellow police officers, and finally Stephanie demanded he set a date. He deferred but with each deferral he became angrier. Joe assumed it was she still loved Manoso. No matter how much he slapped her around, she continued to profess her love for Joe. The whore.

Stephanie was changing. Her spark was gone. Her mother assured her once the children came she would relish her new position in the Burg hierarchy. But not only were there no children, there was also no wedding date. Joe still had Terry as a playmate, thank heavens.

Everything came crashing down that Christmas morning. Terry had called the night before saying she had to leave for Italy for several weeks and needed one last bang. Cupcake didn't want to stay with the Morellis who would have kept her in line. Instead she wanted to go to her parents' house, but Helen in her bizarre Burg rules came down hard. Steph left and walked home to her apartment finding it without heat and water. She sought shelter for the night at Rangeman and the next day on her way to back to Joe's house, saw Terry. The damn neighbor recorded Terry and him in an amorous clutch and shot it through the Burg.

He had to act as if he gave a damn. If it wasn't for Helen Plum's constant harassment, he would have written Cupcake off. Helen organized the assault on Rangeman looking for Stephanie. Joe was dragged along and forced to seem concerned for his fiancée. That holier-than-thou Rangeman baboon couldn't be dissuaded and Joe made a few racial slurs. Maybe having the news cameras there wasn't such a good idea.

Word continued to circulate she had gone into the Army after Valentine's Day event when she had the audacity to walk into the Italian Families dinner and publically give Terry the near-worthless engagement ring. People laughed at Joe, including Terry. Cupcake had lost weight, firmed up and wore short hair. Her mentioning she had a "pass" for the night further instilled the belief she was in the Army. Then months later she was walking into TPD with the Rangeman, the former MP. She had probably been hiding at Rangeman all along, servicing all the thugs there.

The final insult came at Gonzales' when he was getting laid. He'd been having Gonzales service him for several years. The heroin and weed was a way to relax after work. Gonzales was also a good snitch, keeping Joe apprised of activities on Stark Street. Suddenly a bunch of Rangemen thugs shows up. Damn Rangeman, every single one of them.

Joe was well through a beer six-packtrying to understand how things had gone wrong. First, it was Manoso forcing him to propose to her for one. Second, would be the whore herself. She'd spread her legs for him and Manoso and probably every one of those Rangeman thugs. Third, would be Rangeman. They were thugs, especially that guy with the gang tattoos. Yet people continued to hire them and speak about them in glowing terms.

Everything was screwy. He was blamed for everything when it was Cupcake who left him! He needed to set things straight. Stephanie Plum and her exploding cars and garbage crawling was the lowest form of Burg life, the product of a morally deficient and insane family. Look at Valerie. Her California husband threw her over for something young and fresh. The suddenly-not-so-perfect daughter came home and got knocked up by a sad excuse for a man, having the child out of wedlock. Helen Plum was an alcoholic. Her mother Edna was insane. Frank Plum abandoned his wife and ran off with his mother-in-law and two of his granddaughters. It was time to show the Burg just exactly what Stephanie Plum was. First, he had to find her. Grabbing his keys, he drove to Rangeman.

The six beers caused him to be slightly unsteady, but not sloppy drunk, or so he thought. The guard in the main lobby stood straight as he watched Joe stagger through the door. The metal detector indicated Joe had at least a large key collection or perhaps a weapon. Joe slurred, "I demand to see Stephanie Plum. I know you have her here as your whore."

The front door guard was new and did not know Joe Morelli. "Sir, please empty all your pockets and place the contents in the box."

Joe grumbled but complied. When the metal detector beeped again, Joe began to swear. This time he pulled a four inch folding knife from his waistband.

The guard had already notified the 5th floor command center there was a concern in the front lobby. Lester glanced at his monitor and swore, "Damn, it's Morelli." Lester considered calling an Intruder Alert but figured with the way Morelli was having trouble standing, a full turnout wasn't necessary. "Six men. Lobby. Dress." The last was a directive that they needed vests along with weapons. Another thought was to call TPD, but if the name Morelli was broadcast on police radio, the officers would slow down or take the long route to Haywood Street maybe via Philadelphia.

Once Morelli cleared the metal detector, Steven, the Rangeman on duty carefully and slowly went through the Rangeman roster giving time for his back-up to arrive. "Sir, did you say Stephanie Palmer?"

Joe growled, "Plum, you asshole. Get her here now!"

"I'm not finding that name on the employment roster."

"Try looking under 'whore'," Joe snarled as he caught his balance.

At that moment, Lester and six vested and armed Rangemen exploded into the lobby. "What do you want Morelli?" Lester sneered.

"Stephanie. I've seen her working with that ex-MP. I know she's here."

"Stephanie Plum does not work for Rangeman. What you saw was a special situation."

"Yeah, pass the pussy. What about her being with you and those other military bitches at Pino's?"

"There's the clue, other military women," Lester answered vaguely. "I cannot say anything more."

"Where is she?"

"Boston, but I understand she's transferring in a week or so."

"There's no military in Boston."

"Apparently you are a bit uneducated Morelli: Hanscom Air Force Base, Cape Cod Coast Guard Air Station, and Ft. Devens Army Base."

"Where's she going?"

"Gee, the Pentagon forgot to tell me. Now, since Stephanie Plum is not employed here, I don't see you have any other business here. Good day, Mr. Morelli."

Joe wasn't to be dissuaded, "Where is that fucker Manoso?"

"He lives in Miami. Now leave."

Before Joe left, he straightened up, "I bet you all had a piece of her. That whore will spread 'em even for you thugs." Joe stormed out the door and Lester turned to his backup team, "Thank you, gentlemen. Dismissed."

Steve, behind the desk, looked perplexed. "What was that all about?"

"That pustule is a disgraced TPD detective with a drug and alcohol problem."

"Who is Stephanie Plum?"

"She was a former temp BA who was always higher class than that scum. She's moved on." No way Lester was going to tell the new employee Stephanie Plum was the old name for Michelle NoLastName.

Lester returned to the 5th floor. "Cyrene, cover for me. I need to make a call to Boston."

The new hire took a position behind the monitors and watched. Though she was the new Rangeman hire, her previous Marine command experience allowed her to move into a supervisory position easily as needed.

"Yo," came the big deep voice.

Lester began, "Tank, we had a very drunk Morelli in the lobby looking for Stephanie Plum and Ranger. He was crude and belligerent."

"Nothing new there. Do you think he means to harm her?"

"Yeah, I do. He had that vendetta look in his eyes. We need to be careful."

"Call Ranger in Miami. Tell him his three day visit with Julie will have to be extended. Hopefully Joe will settle down. Just in case, assign someone to keep a very loose tail on Morelli. As for Michelle and me, we'll go directly to Atlanta instead of returning to Trenton for a few days. If Michelle has files up there, we'll have them sent down."

0000000

Joe paced around his house. Maybe her cousin Eddie knew where she was.

"Joe, I have no clue. Even more, I wouldn't tell you if I knew," Eddie said definitively.

Joe thought about contacting Frank Plum somewhere in Florida but figured the reception would be the same as with Eddie. The two people to ask were her mother and sister. Joe pulled up in front of what had been the Plum house. Now it belonged to Helen Mazur as part of the divorce settlement. Valerie lived with her mother paying utilities and food. Her downtown job wasn't great, but it covered their two lives. No car in the driveway. Valerie must still be at work. Helen answered the door and looked and smelled horrible. She was a full-blown alcoholic now. The once pristine house was dirty.

"Who are you?" Helen slurred.

"Hello Ms. Mazur, It's Joe. Joe Morelli."

"Joseph! Come to the kitchen. I have coffee cake."

Joe followed but found the once active kitchen devoid of pot, pans, toaster or even knobs on the stove and oven. Apparently, Helen had a problem with electric appliances. "Can I get you a drink, Joe? I have Jack."

It was 4 pm, time for the first drink of the day if you discount his earlier beers at home. "That would be nice, Helen, thank you."

Helen put the half-empty bottle on the table and two greasy glasses. When Helen went to pour, her hands shook so much, Joe took the bottle, "Let me."

Joe only poured "a finger" for himself. There was no way he'd be drinking out of the filthy glass, even if the whiskey would kill any germs.

"Tell me, what you are doing? You still a policeman?" Helen asked as she slid down into her chair, almost missing it.

"No, I've retired. I'm now working in construction." Apparently, Helen was out of the Burg loop.

"How are your mother and family? I don't get out much anymore. Valerie uses our car to get to work downtown." Helen picked up her glass and took a hearty gulp.

Joe figured Helen would collect DUIs by the armload before she reached Hamilton Avenue if she drove in her present condition. "They are well, thank you. The reason I'm here is I heard Stephanie went into the Army."

Slamming her glass onto the table spilling the whiskey and nearly upsetting the bottle Helen began screaming, "I have only one daughter. The other is dead to me just like my precious baby son Anthony. Never mention her name or my backstabbing husband to me again! Now get out of my house!"

Joe retreated without a word. There would be no getting information out of Helen and probably not Valerie. He barely had time to think about Helen's rant about her baby son. What son? Returning home, he had only one option.

"Fort Devens. Sergeant Olsen. How may I direct your call?"

"This is Frank Plum, I'm trying to reach my daughter Stephanie Plum. It is a family emergency."

"Mr. Plum, what is your daughter's rank?"

Joe was stuck. He'd have to guess correctly. "I believe she's a….private but may be a sergeant now."

There was a long pause. "Mr. Plum, I need to confirm your password before I can proceed."

Password, what the fuck is the password? Is this something new security test? Joe attempted to bypass that step, "Her mother is dying. I need to contact her immediately!"

"Sir, I cannot proceed until I can verify you are who you say you are. You are. You are aware of our regulations, sir. You signed the release form and received a password. I understand this is a stressful time. If you prefer, I can relay your message to her and she can contact you directly when she returns."

"Returns from where?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

"Fine," Joe snarled and disconnected.

Sergeant Lars Olsen scrolled through his private phone to find his brother's number. "Mr. Morelli called from his own personal phone. Not exactly the brightest bulb. He was looking for Stephanie Plum. He got nothing. I sidetracked him with a load of bureaucratic bull."

Hal was at the Rangeman bonds office. "Thanks, bro'. I'll relay the message."

Hal's next call was to Lester, "Morelli called Ft. Devens. Lars gave him the runaround."

Lester shook his head. "Thanks, Hal, and thank your brother for us."

0000000

Joe's plans for retribution were set aside. With Cupcake and Ranger gone from Trenton, Joe should return to his "construction work." He had fallen behind in this month's money to Vito and Terry Gilman. He'd have to double up his efforts.

Malcolm, at the Mercer County office, was getting nosy. First, Joe had to change his appearance. He crossed the bridge and droved to Philadelphia. Fewer people would recognize him there. First to change was his often "needs a haircut" style went by the razor to a military cut. Always fighting a 5 o'clock shadow at the end of the day, Joe decided to grow a short stubble beard. It took several weeks to look decent. He ordered thick-framed glasses with slightly tinted clear lens to further help him appear different. The eyebrow scar was easily filled with a black Sharpie. The big problem was his wardrobe. Jeans and lose shirts gave way to dark slacks, white long sleeve shirts and a blazer or jacket. The final touch was time spent in a tanning parlor to intensify his already Mediterranean skin tone. His new identity was a Lebanese name, Anthanios Khoury. Mr. Khoury, worked as a civil engineer.

Armed with a new set of contractors in "need" of his service, he went back to work. With his edgy appearance, he found the money was rolling in once again. Before he concentrated on new home and business construction, now he was able to ingrate himself in with major remodelers. His area ran from the Pennsylvania border on the west and south, from Elizabeth on the north and on the east coast no further south than Point Pleasant. Soon the money was rolling back in. Vito and Terry were happy and Joe was back in their good graces, temporarily.

Terry had warned him to step back from pushing Guardian security systems. The question of fire in the control panels had yet to be resolved. But she said nothing about Allied products and Joe got greedy. He began poaching in Enzo Cisternino's area in Pennsylvania. Contractors were being sweet-talked into purchasing Allied products. The Cisterninos were unhappy as they had their own building supplies to push.

Enzo Cisternino called Vito. "I'm calling about a transgression of territory, Vito. Since it has happened only a few times, I am willing to forgive. But if it continues, there will be repercussions."

"What are you talking about, Enzo?" Vito replied.

"One of your people is selling Allied building products to contractors in on our side of the Delaware River. Since we have had a working relationship for years, I am not charging you a transgression fee, but if it continues there will be problems."

Vito choked down a half dozen swear words, knowing who was behind the transgression. He couldn't believe his niece Terry condoned the transgression into another Family's territory. More likely it was that idiot Morelli.

"Enzo, I will deal with it immediately. I apologize."

When Vito hung up, the stream of Italian curses would fill a new journal. Calming himself, he called his niece, "Terry, YOU have a BIG problem. You were warned to rein in your boy-toy. He's now poaching in Enzo's front yard. Cisternino is very unhappy. So help me, if this continues or that prick brings Ragni or the FBI down on us, you and he will be hung out to dry. This is your second warning. " Vito did not give third warnings. He usually didn't give second warnings, but Terry was his niece.

0000000

Terry paced back and forth in Joe's living room. She was livid. "What the fuck are you thinking moving into Pennsylvania?"

"It's just across the river. What's the big deal?" Joe said and he drank his beer.

"That is Enzo Cisternino's territory, you idiot."

"Isn't he part of the big Ragni family? Like Vito? So technically it is Ragni territory."

Terry couldn't believe Joe's impudence. "You don't go trespassing in another territory without approval. Cisternino has Pennsylvania and South Jersey including Atlantic City. It is easier for him to administer Atlantic City than us."

Joe shrugged, "I go where there are new homes and contractors." Joe put his beer down on the coffee table. "Your territory is spread all over. No big cities. Trenton is the largest and you have given the drug trade to the Latin gangs and the prostitution to the Russians. So really, Vito is small potatoes."

"Is that what you think? He's far more invested in pseudo-legitimate businesses now to keep the Feds away. We are heavy into card fraud, senior living insurance, and the like."

"So what am I doing with contractors?"

"You aren't smart enough Joe. Our work is more corporate level these days. Where is your MBA? Where is your law degree? We give you one job and you continually fuck it up. I had hoped to bring you into the Family, but you are proving to be a liability. You have been warned twice to stick to your job. Uncle Vito doesn't give a third warning. I am not going down for the likes of you."

"He wouldn't hurt you."

"If this gets back to Ragni, all of us are going down," Terry hissed back.

00000000

Patrick in Boston shook Michelle's and Tank's hands, "Already, we are seeing numbers improving and it's only been three weeks since you've been here. I and the Core Team are excited to implement your other suggestions, Michelle. I must admit I do prefer 'Mitch'. Maybe you'll keep it for the next RangemanNinga."

Michelle wanted to blush, but that was a Stephanie action. "Patrick, working with your team has taught me more ways to think through the business. Trenton was a good incubator but what we did there wasn't perfectly suited to Boston. Nor will it fit Atlanta or Miami, I see that now. Together, we can improve our offices. One size doesn't fit all," she said as she smiled at Tank. "As for Rangemanninja, if I don't get back training with Lester and Ram, I'll be disqualified the first day."

"I've been admiring the ring on your hand. I assume it is from Ranger."

Laughing, she said, "I'm sure it's fitted with a microphone and GPS so he can keep track of me."

Patrick laughed but both Tank and Michelle knew there was a time in the not-too-distant past when the tracking was very real.

Giving Michelle a neutral hug and handshake, Patrick said, "You are a fine addition to Rangeman, Michelle. Please feel free to stop by any time and kick our butts back into gear if you find us slipping."

"Where is the Michelle and Tank Pony Show going next?" Patrick asked.

Tank grumbled a bit. "We aren't returning to Trenton because we have been told there's a problem there and need to stay away."

"Oh shit, not that cop again," Patrick hissed.

Michelle was more than a little upset Patrick knew about Morelli. "You know about him?"

"We all do. Do you realize how long you and Ranger have been in orbit around each other? Ranger couldn't risk any of his employees or Rangeman Incorporated to squash that bug. Only you could do it. Apparently, the cockroach is still kicking."

On the flight to Atlanta, Michelle wanted to talk to Tank about what Patrick had said. Starting the conversation would be difficult, but Tank saved her the trouble. "I know you are thinking about what Patrick said."

"Obi-Wan strikes again."

He huffed, "Much to learn you still have…my old padawan."

"Oh yeah, I forgot, you are Yoda."

"Let my size deceive you not."

She stared at Tank and then put her hand on his forehead, "You are running a fever. What gives?"

"You are the only one I can let my hair down…..er, relax with. Being a stone pillar gets tiring. I've seen Ranger let loose recently. You have a mellowing effect on all of us especially now that…you've grown up. We've told you time and again you are the light and life of Rangeman. Hopefully now that your eyes are clearer, you can see for yourself. You've saved guys' lives as well as saving Rangeman. Remember the two kids who nearly bankrupted us?"

"Pfft!" she blew off his comments. She was only now feeling like a part of Rangeman.

"I'm sure Rick has never told you, but on more than one occasion we've had guys about ready to eat a bullet until we've wrestled the gun from their hands. It was getting so Ranger considered hiring a full-time mental health professional. Since you started coming around, we haven't had one incident."

"That's coincidental," she dismissed.

"No! You took the time to learn everyone's name, engage them in conversation, remember their birthdays, their families, pulled them up when they were down…need I go on? Seeing how well you integrated with the men convinced Rick we needed more women in Rangeman. The main criteria after military service, hand to hand training, arms instruction was empathy."

"Not in Trenton."

"No, we had you, the Master."

"Tell me, Yoda, if Ranger had not survived, would you have followed his orders and married me?"

He looked pained. "You asked me that before. I am tempted to say yes. But I know you would look at me as second best, Ranger's substitute. You two belong together. It was just that you both were fucked up. None of us realized how badly.

Michelle was taken aback by his frankness. "Was I really that fucked up?"

"Your mother and sister still are. You escaped, your father escaped with the girls and Edna. Albert and Lisa are moving to Melbourne. The family will survive."

Michelle looked out the plane's windows for a while and turned back, "Valerie needs to be with her daughters."

"No, she doesn't! Enough damage has been done to your nieces. Valerie needs to make a complete turnaround. Look how toxic your mother was to you. How could you wish that pain on another generation?"

Michelle was going to argue but decided to move on to another difficult subject. "So what is happening with Joe, or as Patrick called him, the cockroach?"

"Do you really care?"

"Not for him personally, but it must be bad if you are keeping me away from Trenton."

"He's been at Rangeman demanding to talk to you, though his actions and words were less than gentlemanly. We had a new guy at the front desk who doesn't know the name Stephanie Plum and read the roster to Joe. You weren't on it either as Stephanie or "whore" as Joe called you. Lester and six armed men had to persuade him to leave. The next day he was overheard threatening to kill you for messing up his life."

"Messing up HIS life? Can't the police do anything?"

"We have a loose tail on him plus Carl, Big Dog, Eddie and others are keeping watch. Right now it is a drunk speaking. We don't want to provoke him. We are staying well away but watching."

"Why isn't his family helping him?"

"He and Mooch had a giant falling out about building materials. He wanted Mooch to use Allied products. Mooch knows better. Anthony's wife threatened Joe with a gun one night when he came to their house drunk and Anthony wasn't there. His mother is in denial. She is the older generation like your mother. His sisters have moved away from Trenton after Joe's fall."

Tank watched her for a bit. "Please don't tell me you are trying to find a way for an intervention with Joe."

"Did the rest of you see him for what he really is?"

"We knew before you started up with him. Rangeman was just starting up and he went out of his way to make our lives miserable. He was raised in a dysfunctional house, coddled to where he could do no wrong. His dick wagging began early but he wasn't always careful. He had a reputation for STDs in the Navy. Medics were on a first name basis with him. He was in the Brig a few times for booze and brawling. He served the shortest of the enlistments as they wanted him gone. How he got an honorable discharge is unknown. Before you ask how I know, Carl was also in the Navy and knew about Morelli but never was closely associated with him. Joe got into the police academy using Juniak. Something Joe Juniak regrets to this day. You met Ranger and Joe about the same time but saw Joe through your rose-colored high school glasses. Ranger had his head….elsewhere. We tried to talk Ranger into stopping his missions, but he grew up poor and enjoyed the money. Also, he wanted Rangeman properly capitalized."

"How legal was Rangeman in the beginning?"

"Nothing has been totally illegal. We may have pushed the boundaries a few times, even crossed over from time to time, but we have never been renegades."

"Joe calls you thugs."

"We were initially. We had to make our bones with the gangs. We knew how to dispose of the bodies. It only took a few hits before the gangs knew who we were and that we weren't out to take their territory but to enforce some type of peace. Joe thought he was hot stuff in Trenton and resented us. We got away with more than he could. You saving him from the murder charge settled him down a bit. But when Ranger started being more in your life, Joe couldn't handle the competition. Now, he's dropped off the deep end. You kept him from dropping off sooner."

"You told me he had women across the bridge. Were there others?"

"Do you really care?" Tank was quiet for a while then resumed, "He hasn't changed from high school. He tried with you but he's never been entirely monogamous. It's not his nature."

"And he accused me of being unfaithful…"

"You were. You kept telling yourself you never cheated on Joe, but you did constantly. Guess you missed Sunday School. You shall not commit adultery. But I say unto you, whosoever looks on a woman with lust after her has committed adultery with her already in his heart." Turn around is true. You were lusting after two men."

"I didn't fuck Ranger when I was with Joe."

"The verse didn't say fuck, it said lust."

"Joe was fucking women. I was lusting."

"If it's not a virtue, then it is a sin. A sin is a sin. There are no first degree, second degree or misdemeanor sins."

"So are you judging me?" she asked indignantly.

"Nope, I had more than enough to answer for once I finally opened my eyes. I'm just saying…there is a big, grey, swampy zone here. You've been stomping through it for years. Maybe it's time to get out of the mud."

00000000

The Deacon was a perfect gentleman once he saw the engagement ring on Michelle's finger. "Tank or Ranger?" he asked holding her hand.

"Ranger."

"Right. Now, if I challenged him for your hand, I might win but then I'd have to deal with your second, Tank, third, Lester, and right through the Trenton roster. You have that much support. I hope the two of you find the happiness you both deserve."

"Thank you, Deacon. It's been a long journey for both of us."

"So….Mitch of Rangeman, how are you going to help us?"

"First, let's save Mitch for Rangemanninja. I'd prefer Michelle in the corporate world. I'm impressed how you've arranged your districts so far: Peachtree, Downtown, Midtown and Buckhead but let's look at tightening and then expanding. Each community here is different just as Atlanta is different than Trenton, Boston, or Miami.

I've read through your business plan but you haven't updated it for several years. Why?"

The Deacon shrugged. "Time mostly, but also I'm lacking enough business knowledge. We are fortunate to have gotten this far with Ranger's help. I admit now we need professional help."

Stephanie gave a curt nod. "I'm looking forward to doing what I can but more and more I realize there are areas I'm not comfortablein either. One of my suggestions, when I finish with the four cities, is to get business specialists on board. You can afford them now."

"We are looking forward to working with you. Damn, this is different than having Ranger coming down on us. This might actually be enjoyable."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 **Thank you for your patience. My muse came slogging home like a wayward trollop. Now we can finish this story...in another few chapters**

"Babe."

Michelle leaned back against the headboard in her Rangeman Atlanta room with her cell phone against her ear. The simple word, 'Babe', was filled with so many different meanings. This evening it was a declaration of anguish from their separation.

"I miss you too, Carlos. I had hoped to be in Trenton a few days before we came here. Tank explained the problems with Joe."

Ranger was quiet. "I'd rather not talk about it right now. I want to know how you are and how the Michelle and Tank show is going."

"The Deacon and crew were very receptive to our ideas, but Tank and I are quickly coming to the realization our combined knowledge needs a boost. Our corporate performance analysis skills are good, but we know there are people whose skills are better. The Deacon has been wrestling with resource allocation mainly through trial and error. He needs better direction."

Ranger asked, "Is it time for a corporate performance analysis across the board?"

"Yes, among other analyses. Rangeman is big enough now. You can afford a full-scale review."

"It won't be easy finding someone well versed in Rangeman-type business."

"Yes, the security side shouldn't be the concern, it is the secret government work that could be a problem," she continued. "That's for another day's discussion. Here in Atlanta, it appears we could expand in the near future. The Deacon, Jameson, Tank and I have been looking at future sites."

"In Georgia?" he asked with skepticism.

"No, Atlanta is the major population center and The Deacon has his operations well suited. He should add several auxiliary sites around the metroplex as growth continues. We were looking at Alabama and South Carolina especially along the coast."

"We can't keep you away from the beach," he chuckled.

She giggled, "You know me well. Once we get to Miami I'd like to look at Tampa /St. Petersburg. Tank mentioned you were considering starting an office there. Why didn't you? It fits all the original parameters."

"You."

"Me?"

"Originally Marco was set to open the Tampa office and I would finish with the Miami office and put Santos in charge. I could remain under the radar. But then I met a beautiful, curly-haired brunette and couldn't leave Trenton. So I needed my best men around me for protection: Lester, Bobby, and Tank."

She had another peek behind the Rangeman curtain. Ranger was always a target. He needed to keep moving to throw off the Guzmans but when he settled, he needed protection. Tank, Lester, and Bobby primarily followed by Hal, Cal, and Ram. The Rangeman structure had a purpose built around Ranger. The commander was being protected by his men. Was he safe now? "Where are you?"

"I'm back in Trenton. I went to see Julie for a few days."

"How is she?" Michelle didn't have to be pretending to care, she truly loved Julie.

"She misses you as much as I do."

"Does she know about our plans to get married?"

Ranger chuckled, "Babe, the very first thing she asked me was when you and I were getting married."

"What did you say?"

"I asked her if she had homework to do," he said with a chuckle. "It earned me a quick jab to the upper arm. She is tough."

"Did she hurt you?"

"Babe." It was the exasperated version of the 4-letter word.

"Carlos, you were badly injured. You came home in pieces."

"That was a long time ago. Trust me; I'm back to the way I was before. I've worked hard and had excellent rehab both in Florida and here with Bobby, Tank, and Les. I've been injured before, so I know what I have to do."

She smiled, "So now you are truly my man of steel?"

"Titanium and I can still outrun you. Speaking of which, are you planning to compete in RangemaNinja this year?"

"Patrick mentioned it. I've been so busy I had forgotten. I need to get back and work with Ram and Lester."

"Would you consider staying in Atlanta?"

Michelle was confused. "Why? Does this have to do with Joe? I thought we were passed you telling me what to do, Ranger?" The loving Carlos name was forgotten.

"Please, breathe, Babe. That isn't why I asked. Newell is an excellent swimming coach and The Deacon could help with the small arms instruction. After working with them, you can come back and train further here. The guys are already asking if you are going to repeat last year's performance."

"I'm sorry, Carlos, I slipped again." She hoped she wasn't falling back into Stephanie mode.

"I know you can handle Morelli, but I've seen the video of his recent visit to Rangeman. It was Mean Drunk Joe in our lobby. He's degrading and becoming his father or worse. He's hard to predict. Until Joe regains his sobriety or his mind, you should remain invisible, not only for your safety but for others. I talked to Vito Grizzoli. He is very unhappy with Joe and Terry. Terry may have to make a decision."

"Decision?"

"She is going to have to choose between Family and Joe."

"What will happen if she chooses Joe?"

Ranger hesitated, "If they value their lives they won't be anywhere near New Jersey or the East Coast."

"I can't see her leaving the Family. But without her, what will happen to him?"

"He's not your concern. Turns out, he is the train wreck, not you."

"Tank and I discussed him a bit. I've let go. He is nothing to me other than I'm upset he's keeping me from you."

"No anger?"

"No, Yoda has gotten me beyond anger and revenge."

"Yoda?"

For a moment, Michelle was going to share her nickname for Tank but decided that would remain between Tank and her. "Yes, 'Star Wars' had some excellent insight. It wasn't all lightsabers and Stormtroopers."

"Babe, when have you become so philosophical?"

She wanted to say since she froze her _gnu-gnus_ in the winter basic training in Maine with an extremely intelligent and caring man, Tank. But she would keep the secret. Time to redirect the conversation again, "Do you really think I've been living in my corporate suit for these past few weeks? I'm with Tank. There's no way he would let me sit idle as he checks the readiness of the Rangeman employees. If I don't train alone he threatens to drag me by my hair. Even wearing my hair this short hasn't stopped him. But you are right. I haven't been in the pool for a while. I'll stay down here for a few extra weeks, but I must get back to train with Lester in the trees." She smiled as she thought of their "me Tarzan, you Jane" fun and games last year.

"Babe, thank you."

Please and thank you? Is Carlos becoming civilized? She sighed, "If the saying 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder' is true, I'm not sure I can encompass all the extra affection."

"Michelle, we've endured months apart before."

"We had conflicting priorities plus my mind was a mess. Now the priorities are the same and my mind is clear. You have my full attention, total heart, and the burning need to be with you."

"Have you been thinking about when and how we will get married?"

"No big production. I want it small, meaningful and soon. Specifics aren't important except I'd like Julie, Daddy, Grandma Mazur and my nieces there. Plus I want my brothers there or as many as can come. I don't know how much family you will want to attend."

"We will talk about in the near future. In the meantime, sweet dreams, Babe."

"They are sweet when I think about you, Carlos."

 **00000000**

Michelle slipped into the water of the new private 8-lane, 25m pool owned by Rangeman. Previous years they trained at city facilities. The new pool was open only at specific times for high school and private swim teams plus for military rehabilitation. The majority was for use by Rangeman employees and their families. Mitch loved to swim and was grateful Ram had gotten her back into it during her emotional and body rehabilitation. Most recently she relied on the gym and running to stay in her edgy condition, but she knew swimming would enhance her efforts and aid in keeping her calm.

The pool opened at 04:00 and Michelle astounded herself by being one of the first in the water. If you had asked her years ago if she could see herself swimming at 4 o'clock in the morning, she would have laughed. Now it was her special time, often with several other early Rangemen, until Newell arrived at 05:00 for instruction. Then at 19:00 she and Newell met for more training.

At lunchtime, The Deacon would take her to the gun range and work with handguns. She was always afraid of all weapons but with the smaller handgun Ram had introduced her to and custom handgrips, she had progressed rapidly. For some reason she overcame her fear with rifles and shotguns before handguns. Quickly, The Deacon realized her problem was standing still. If allowed to move and switch position frequently, her scores went up.

"You were in the wrong competition last year," Deacon said. "Ram had you in the Static event, point and shoot. You need the action competitions like the Three Gun event. You were on the move and did exceptionally well."

"Deacon, the first time I had to use a handgun I killed someone. Yes, it was self-defense, him or me but it was a trauma. I never got over it."

"You didn't get any counseling?" he asked in horror.

"No, I pretended like it didn't bother me, but it did. Joe yelled at me, my mother yelled and cried. My father was an Army Ranger and could have said something, but didn't. The community decided I was crazy, dangerous, and worthless, upping their rhetoric against me."

The Deacon wanted to wrap her in his arms but saw it wasn't necessary. "At least in the military we are given instruction. It never is enough but our commanders watched us afterward for problems. Why the hell didn't Manoso say something?"

"We only knew each other a few days."

"How did you get over your fear of guns?"

"Who says I have? I guess Tank and his winter survival boot camp and then Ram, Lester and the others working with me. Now I get to add you to my mentor list," she smiled. Turning the conversation back to the Ninja competition, "Deacon, The Weaver, and Chapman shooting positions are similar, one leg forward, and arm position somewhat different. The Isosceles faces me forward, but apparently my legs like to move. Kneeling and even prone makes me think more. I need to keep moving. Maybe it was being a BA: Keep moving and don't become a target."

"Mitch, you've come a long way. You should be proud."

"Deacon, I am. I was down at the bottom wondering if it was worth coming back. Everyone told me I was a failure and ridiculed me because I wasn't what they thought I should be. Ladies don't play with guns, kill people, have dead bodies in their living room, roll in garbage, or have their cars blown up by RPGs. My genetic code isn't preprogrammed for cleaning windows, cooking pot roasts, and being subservient to a husband. I need mental and physical stimulation beyond raising children."

"Then it's time we move you into Action Handgun competition."

The training course was surprisingly small, similar to a mid-20th-century suburban backyard. The targets were far closer in.

"Most gun confrontations occur in small areas, not battlefields," The Deacon explained.

She thought about the times she had been confronted with a gun and agreed, they were always close quarters. Her instruction was how to turn, shoot, roll, shoot. Once again Mitch the Bitch had a smile on her face. How long did it take her to learn she could not be confined, contained, curbed, or cramped? Her need to be free was the very essence of her life.

The Deacon was a year or two younger than she but was amazed how this lithe woman maneuvered through the course, hitting targets with abandon. If she wasn't already wearing Manoso's ring, he would be making a serious play for her. She was beautiful, intelligent, caring, and sexy as hell with a handgun in her hand.

Tank stood behind the protective barrier and watched. "Damn, she is good," he murmured to himself. She had come a long way from the frozen terrain training in Maine.

As they finished, Deacon tallied her score.

"How did I do?" Michelle asked after safing her weapon.

"Yeah, how did she do?" Tank asked, coming out from behind the barrier.

The Deacon looked up with a big smile, "Is there anything you can't do?"

"I can't cook or sing," she laughed. "Plus I'm a one drink wonder."

He and Tank grunted amusement at nearly the same time. Did Ranger's unit ever speak to one another or did they grunt the whole time?

Turning to Tank, the Deacon said, "Bro, we are in trouble. Mitch is going to beat us into the ground. I don't think we've changed much since active service, but now I'm wondering. She's older than me and is bustin' my butt."

As Michelle wandered away to the gun bench to clean her handgun, The Deacon came close to Tank, "Who does she remind you of?"

"More and more like Ranger but not fucked up with combat," Tank whispered. She's a natural leader, super skilled and has more intuition than all of us together. Even Ranger respects her instincts."

 **00000000**

Tank and Michelle returned to Trenton arriving before midnight. He went home to his house and cats and she went to her auxiliary apartment on Haywood. Sleep came easily but she was up and ready for action at 4 a.m. After her workout, shower, and dressing she was in her Haywood office before 06:00. Lester rolled by at 07:00. "Terrain work at 15:00, Jane." Her body, though tired, jumped in excitement. All this training meant she didn't need to feel guilty about lunch at Sal's in Ewing for lasagna. If she went early enough she wouldn't be weighted down for her first session with Lester/Tarzan.

The drive to Rangeman Trenton's training site mentally brought her back to Stephanie's "death" and Michelle's birth. Lester would bring her here to physically work her to exhaustion. How many times did she roll onto the fallen pine needles gasping for air only to have Lester stand above her admonishing her, "Get up recruit! You are still breathing. Let's move it." When she truly had enough, Lester would not carry her to the car. "I carried the incompetent Stephanie; you can get yourself there, Mitch." She hated his callousness but understood he was teaching her there is always something deeper down. Failure was not an option.

"Me Tarzan, you Jane," Lester grunted as she stepped out of her vehicle at the training site.

"Tarzan, you need new lines," she smiled as she locked her vehicle. The relationship between Lester and her was truly like siblings. At one time they might have been lovers, but now they were stronger together as a family.

"Umgahwa," he grunted, mimicking the Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan as he led her down the sandy path to the secluded Rangeman property. Located in the Pine Barrens, the trees were mainly short needle pine with straight but narrow trunks. The more scraggly longer needle pitch pine was not suitable for climbing plus they tended to be in the boggier areas of the Barrens. There were other trees, oaks but Michelle didn't know specifics. Botany was not her subject in school.

As she entered into the facility what she saw amazed her. Lester and other Rangemen had been working all year adding training stations to the terrain challenge course. The trees were still there with their ropes, but now the course looked like a military challenge/Ninja training course. There were more upper body strength items which she thought surprising because Lester was not lacking in strength anywhere. She walked around looking at the peg climb, salmon ladder, and unstable bridge. She saw the giant tire climb and walked over to it and stopped in surprise. Climbing through the tires like Spiderman was Carlos. He was clothed in shorts and a formfitting t-shirt. She wondered if he ever wore a baggy shirt. His body looked renewed firm and muscled. As he lowered himself to the ground she saw the scars on his legs. They were far more healed than she expected.

He caught her staring, "Babe?"

"I expected ugly deformed scars, these aren't bad at all."

"They were pretty bad in the beginning, but they are healing nicely."

She realized she had yet to give him a proper greeting and flew into his arms, "Carlos, I've missed you."

They stayed in a long welcoming kiss until they heard Lester whistling as he approached. "Hey Jane, quit messing with Cheetah. Let's get to work."

"He'll pay for that, don't worry," Ranger said. "Now go warm up."

For the next few hours before the sunset, the threesome worked on the new stations as well as the old. Michelle relished the climbs and swings to new stations. Though the most dangerous she truly felt like she was flying. Lester set the pace and she followed. She quit glancing back at Carlos as she realized he was right behind her.

Ranger had not seen her run the entire Challenge course in Atlanta and was amazed at her skill. Her balance was far greater than the hotel ledge crawl in Atlantic City several years ago. Her arms and shoulders hinted at her strength but now in action, he found her comparable to most Rangers in training. She was in her mid-30s but her body was firmer and stronger than those in their 20s.

Quickly, her daily routine became Rangeman work and training. Ram noted her improvement in gun handling and swimming. The Deacon had moved her into Active Handgun competition. Ram had hesitated as she was so good in Three Gun he thought she might be bored. He was wrong. It had been months since she trained with the handgun, rifle, and shotgun together, but any rust was knocked off.

"Mitch the Bitch needs to try sniper," Ram stated one day. Michelle and Cyrene, the new Trenton Rangewoman and former Marine went with Ram to Joint Base McGuire-Dix instead of the Naval Ammunition Station Earle for sniper work. Though a civilian, Michelle was given special permission to train there, as she was part of Rangeman. Michelle had proven once again she had an eagle eye when it came to rifle shooting, but the super long shots with the larger caliber rifles took far too long to set up with calculations for distance, temperature, elevation, and wind. The last vestiges of fidgety Stephanie couldn't sit still. On the other hand, Cyrene's medal as an expert rifleman was soon apparent as she quickly adapted to the distances greater than 1,000 yards with a Cheytac .408 rifle. RangemaNinja would have its first Trenton female sniper contestant, but it wouldn't be Mitch/Michelle.

Back in the pool, Ram was pleased with Michelle's progress under Newell's tutelage. They swam side by side, stroke for stroke for 1,000 meters. "Maybe I need to go down and work with Newell," Ram said. "I was not holding back."

She knew better and simply commented, "Pfft." She knew he was pacing her. Day after day, he swam slightly faster and longer until they reached 5 Km. She remained at his side.

After a short but intense pool workout, she did not stay in the water to cool off, but rather exited. The Deacon had shared a new way to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth like a pendulum feeling the oxygen reach through the body relaxing muscles from the toes up. As she practiced she found herself replenishing her air quickly as well as relaxing.

"Breathe in through the nose, breathe out through the mouth, and let your body tell you how much it needs." Tank had tried to instill this in her before, now as she was more relaxed with her new body, the breathing that seems so foreign, came naturally. She was beginning to understand how Ranger, Tank, and the other remained so calm during a crisis or heavy physical effort. There was no gasping for air, no holding one's breath during stress, no overextending the lungs and tightening the upper body muscles. If the body needed more oxygen, the pendulum speed was increased. Naturally the body relaxed and her muscles were soon rejuvenated.

She felt Carlos coming up behind her, "Hello, Carlos," she said without turning around.

"Michelle," he whispered as he neared and then wrapped his arms around her from behind. "If you change from your swimsuit, we can catch a quick dinner."

She turned around and kissed him, "Give me 10 minutes."

Ranger chuckled, "Is that all you need?"

Slipping off her swim cap, "Carlos, having short hair saves at least thirty minutes and a lot of anguish."

He played with her wet hair, "I miss the curls."

Playfully slapping him, she smiled, "They are still there on the top. I'm no longer a Jersey Girl trolling for men with my long hair. I've found my mate and he'll have to play with something else."

As she disappeared, Ranger finally got a better view of the new Michelle body. Up to now, it was hidden under Rangeman uniforms or dresses. She was never fat, maybe a little fleshy if she ate too much junk food in an emotional binge. Now her body was long, lean, and beautifully curved. Her long legs now showed muscle development, her waist, tiny and her shoulders, broad. She moved freely in a natural gait that flowed. He was getting uncomfortable watching her walk away.

Ram came from the pool, "She's stronger than last year. Tank unlocked the natural athlete in her. Her drive to get better is incredible. What a damn shame The Burg fucked her so badly."

Ranger shook his head, "While we can blame The Burg or specifically, her mother, the damage is more widespread. Girls are funneled into girl activities from an early age. For example, the sexy dresses and high heel shoes for four-year-olds. Girls are discouraged from rough and tumble activities because it isn't lady-like. They need to know what their bodies can and cannot do as well as how much play pain they can take, just like a boy. Their natural instinct to explore their developing abilities is curtailed in the name of sexism. Remember the poem _what are little boys and girls made of? Girls and young women were sugar and spice and all things nice or ribbons and laces, and sweet pretty faces."_

"I've never heard that," Ram laughed. "What then are little boys made of?"

Ranger chuckled, " _Frogs and snails and puppy-dogs' tails. Young men are made from sighs and leers, and crocodile tears."_

Ram smiled, "Yeah, that pretty well sums it up. I enjoyed the outside exploration but puberty was the pits."

"Now boys are discouraged from playing outside unless it is goal oriented play, soccer or baseball for example," Ranger sighed. "They are discouraged from rough and tumble play or even schoolyard fights in the mistaken belief their natural physical exploration can be reprogramed into calmer, Mother Defined activities. Studies have shown boys kept from the natural, non-structured, and rough and tumble play between ages 4 to about 8 or 9 fail to develop empathy towards others and don't understand their own physical and psychological needs. Later in life they turn to socially unacceptable activities."

"Like drugs?"

"In part, but also mass killers, the ones that go off and kill 40 people for no apparent reason. Celia, my psychiatrist sister told me a study of mass killers all had the same lack of childhood, non-structured play. How many mothers of these broken men weep, 'but he was a good boy?' Sure, he was mommy-coddled to puberty and beyond."

"So how does this apply to Bomber?" Ram asked, referring to Michelle's old nickname.

"She spent her youth chaffing against the 'ribbons and laces, and sweet pretty faces.' She would have been great with 'frogs and snails and puppy dog tails.' What is sad is her mother was a track star in high school. Edna allowed Helen to explore her physical side, but Helen curtailed her daughter's."

"Is this the reason she broke down two years ago?"

"Celia thinks it is a large part of it. All her life Michelle has been the square peg trying to fit into the round hole. Then her relationships continued to try to redefine her instead of letting her finally develop. God knows what Dickie Orr wanted, Morelli wanted a Burg Zombie Wife, and I was an ass being overly protective."

"Thank God for Tank."

"Yeah, his instincts have always been spot on."

"Tank warned us she was given the option of leaving Rangeman. Do you see her leaving us?"

Ranger snorted, "Not a chance. We will all be working for her in a few years."

Dinner was in a quiet restaurant not far from the Rangeman Princeton. Both Ranger and Michelle had grilled fish with radish salad, and a glass of wine. Tomorrow would be more training.

"Michelle, we've talked about Rangeman and the Atlanta event coming up, but we need to talk about us," Ranger began.

She smiled as she wiped her lips with her napkin, "Good, my favorite subject, how much I love you."

He chuckled, "You aren't coy anymore, Babe. You speak your mind with a bit more sass."

"We've been through a lot over these nearly seven years but here we are. I've learned so much about you and hope you are learning about me, the new me."

"A topic I plan to deeply explore, hopefully soon," he smiled.

Michelle readjusted herself. That was a bit too sexual and her underwear was getting damp. "We needed to clean our emotional houses. I can't wait to move on with you." She didn't want to play sexual badminton with Carlos. Remaining celibate was getting harder and harder.

"When you were in Atlanta, I asked if you had thoughts about our wedding. You indicated you had some ideas."

She put down her fork, picked up the wine glass and took a sip. This would be a bizarre request. She needed to prepare herself for the delivery. "I have, and I've come up with an idea but I can't quite work everyone into it. I want my father, grandmother, and nieces to attend. Julie, of course, but I don't know how to work in your family. Then there are my brothers in Trenton and the friends I'm making at the other Rangeman locations. I don't want a huge wedding but it keeps working out that way. Plus I'm also a little worried about the security issues."

Ranger held his concern in check. He couldn't imagine a big church event being Michelle's style, but if that is what she wants, she will have it.

After Michelle outlined her idea, Carlos sat back and chuckled. "You've thought a lot about this? I couldn't see you going for a church wedding but more likely a beach wedding. This didn't even hit my radar."

"I did consider the Haywood gym but I'm not sure there are enough flowers to hide the perpetual male sweat smell. While I don't find it offensive, guests might. Plus all the equipment would need moving. Finally, I don't want to bring that many civilians into the building."

"Thank you, Babe." He noted she did not defer to him with I didn't think you'd want that many civilians in the building. She was taking her partial ownership of Rangeman seriously.

"This way we won't be inundated with gifts in a bridal shower or event. Living in the studio apartments at Rangeman, I've come to appreciate simplicity. Before it was required due to being broke. Now, it's trendy and called Minimalism. Who knew I was so trendy? Regardless, I'm into quality, not quantity."

"Speaking of family, I assume the Florida Plums and Kloughns will be invited."

Of course, and Julie but if you feel Rachael, Ron and the two others are necessary, fine. I don't know about the Newark and Miami Cuban contingent."

"I'll talk to them. We might have a re-vow ceremony in Newark."

"Good idea! The more times I get to marry you, Carlos, the better."

"Do you want your father to give you away?"

She laughed, "I'm not a pubescent virginal princess posing as chattel. We've done that already with Dickie Orr how many years ago? This is me, the new me, not a Plum property. We will walk and stand together."

"Indeed we will. We need a witness."

"There's no way it won't be Tank….and Bobby, Lester, Hector, Ram, Cal, Hal…"

"Whoa!" he laughed then he stopped. "Actually I think we could do that. Have you ever seen an honor guard after a wedding?"

"Wedding sword ceremony?" she almost squealed but squealing was a Stephanie action.

Ranger smiled and nodded one quick nod. "Will it be formal dress and tuxedos?"

She flicked a piece of bread at him, "No way due to location, time constraints, and the fact I don't believe in wear-it-once clothes." She did not say also because it was standard Burg wedding wear. "So do you like my idea?"

"Only you, Babe. I will admit this has deep meaning for me as well. One final thought, 'First comes loves, then comes marriage, and then…?"

"If you are asking me if after all these years of saying no to children I've changed my mind, the answer is yes. As I've gotten to know Charlie's daughter, I began to get motherly feelings. If possible I would love to have children by you if it is also your wish."

"We aren't youngsters. We would have to start immediately…"

"Not tonight dear."

"Babe."

 **000000**

 **RangemaNinja**

The first events at RangemaNinja are the swimming events. Previously they were held the day before the official opening events due to constraints with the public pool. With the new Atlanta Rangeman pool, the problem was eliminated except tradition. The 'fish' formerly called 'seals' would start swimming the night before and finish up in the early hours of the event's opening day.

The first event was the 1000 m swim. As in the year before, Doug and Stew took the first two places and Charlotte the former Olympian from Boston took third. Michelle from Trenton took fourth once again barely behind Charlotte. They did not swim in the same heat but Charlotte went first. When it came to Michelle's turn to swim, Charlotte was her loudest supporter.

The underwater 100 m dash was won by Ram. Michelle had yet to enter this competition but both knew she'd probably beat Ram if she did. Years before her lower muscle mass and poor breath control would not have allowed her to stay below the water level. Now it would not be a problem if she ever entered the competition.

The next event was the crushing 5 Km swim. Since Ram and Michelle would be competing in the gun events after, they were in the first heat. Newell stood to the side with his stopwatch. "Uh oh, Charlotte, we are in deep trouble. They are swimming stroke for stroke and ahead of their usual time."

The Trenton duo became the two to watch in the long distance event. They were lapping other swimmers with abandon yet remained stroke for stroke with each other. Everyone was amazed at Michelle's strength which only began to fail in the last 15m. She touched only slightly after Ram. He slipped under the rope and got behind her and boosted her to the deck as she was spent. Newell from Atlanta grabbed and made her stand. Ram was right behind her, "Breathe, pendulum."

She went to put her hands on her hips and Ram stopped her, "No full body relax." Amazingly she recovered quickly ending with a giant smile, "Almost gotcha!"

Shaking his head, "Yeah, you nearly did."

Newell looked at both of them, "You two were phenomenal. Mitch or Michelle, you made this swimming instructor's heart proud. Of course, Ram had nothing to do with making you great."

Fortunately, this year Mitch had a bit extra time before her first gun event so she spent the time with food, water and a slow walk around the grounds. Rangemen from Boston, Atlanta, and of course Trenton kidded her about almost beating Ram in the Big Swim.

"He won because he has longer arms," she joked. "Or would you believe I didn't want to hurt his feelings?"

To conserve her energy, she didn't shoot in the Static event but was recovered and ready for the Action event. The Deacon appeared as he finished up his round. "OK, Annie Oakley, do your thing." It was the same small field she had been practicing on before, only the targets had been moved around. She looked the ground over very carefully. There were some uneven areas that had caused her to nearly stumble before. Fixing them in her mind and plotting her route around the course she planned her moves and angles. After the safety instructor checked her out, she began her run. The ding and fall of metal targets countered the explosive nature of the bullets. True to Mitch style, she added an unexpected front slide when she missed her footing on a forgotten depression. Still, she made her target, rolled and continued the course. When she was finished she looked down at her grass-stained shirt, "At least it isn't garbage or blood."

With Michelle's traveling, she and Charlie didn't have time to practice their team shooting at the paintball range. Charlie and Bobby teamed up and got through the course unsplattered. In a little over a year, Charlie had become a major member of Rangeman.

Charlie and Mitch did compete against one another in the Three Gun event. A last minute conflict with a monitor had Charlie filling in as Mitch's monitor around the course. In true Rangeman spirit, he counseled her. He wasn't keeping her calm; he was keeping her focused, remembering how she lost the Challenge course last year with a little happy dance.

Evening came and Mitch slowly morphed into Michelle in time to have dinner with Ranger.

"How did you do, Babe?"

She snorted, "I'm pretty sure you already know. I don't care about times or standings, I just want to do my best. All I ask this second year is I'm not in last place for anything."

"So I assume you didn't enter Strongman."

"Ah, no. A woman's got to know her limitations."

"You and I run the Challenge course tomorrow late morning."

"Did you set it up that way? Head to head?" she laughed.

"I had no say so in scheduling," he said, unconvincingly.

"Am I absolutely crazy for running the course tomorrow?"

"Why would you say that? It's your favorite event. I'm surprised you didn't enlist twice under the names Mitch and Michelle," he laughed.

"Dang, I never thought about doing that. It's just last year I did so well, maybe it was a fluke."

"Didn't you just say you'd be happy with anything but last place? Are you slipping?"

She thought for a moment. What was her problem? Then it hit: She'd be competing against Carlos and Lester! This wasn't play time in the Pine Barrens, this was the real deal.

Ranger was reading her mind, one of the few times he actually could. "You train with us, what is the big deal?"

Then she knew: She was hesitant because she wanted to win! How would her two men take her beating them? Would their egos be damaged?

The next morning dawned grey and threatening rain. Michelle looked up at the skies, "Grandpa Mazur, if you have any pull up there, hold off the rain until after all the events. The Challenge and Mt. Manoso are dangerous enough as it is without wet ropes and poles."

As Mitch walked around the Challenge course she saw nothing new. She wondered if all the new stations Lester installed at the Pine Barrens course were for extra arm strength training for Mt. Manoso. Relaxing, she started the course using her new breathing method and after training with Lester and Ranger, this Challenge seemed almost too easy. But she kept her mind focused. She had too much ahead to get sloppy. As she climbed down the rope ladder and back up the parallel logs she knew to concentrate. An overnight rain had made the ground slippery. The long downhill run would be treacherous. The lower portion had been sanded, but the contestants before her might have dislodged the firmer footing. A secure ground was required to get enough speed to grab the rope and swing across the water hazard which had enlarged with the rain. Channeling two years of Me Tarzan, You Jane with Lester she threw herself at the rope pumping it one extra time to gain velocity and then let go. In an instant, she realized she had over pumped and would fly up higher than intended. Keeping herself loose and pendulum breathing, she came in head first, rolling her head, neck, and shoulders just in time to do a perfect roll including grabbing her knees. She was astounded and wanted to think about it, but voices yelled, "Don't stop!" As she crossed the line she turned back to see a cluster of people at the landing zone cheering and applauding. She recognized the faces. Julie broke free and ran to her, "You can really fly! And you kept going this time."

The landing may have been gymnastic perfection, but the mud still existed and she was streaked with Georgia clay from her rump to her shoulders and all over her arms and legs. Looking at Julie, "My hair too?"

Laughing, "Yes, your hair too."

"Has your Dad run yet?"

"No, he should be up at the start. Are you going to stay?"

Of course she'd stay. Charlie wrapped the silver blanket around her to keep her warm. "You look lovely," he laughed as he wiped larger mud chunks off her forehead. "Just like the time you went into the Marigold Bar disguised as a bagwoman." Cell phones were recording her new look. Years ago in Trenton she might have been embarrassed or offended. Today, it was barely worthy of a 'Pfft'.

Julie had her arms around Michelle's waist, Tank wrapped his arm around her should as they waited for Carlos. "It's amazing he can do this course," Julie said. "He was really badly broken. Bobby showed me the x-rays."

"Jules, he has to run this to prove to himself he is back. But don't worry, we've been training together. He's still Batman."

"Here he comes," she heard from the group down by the stream. As she watched him traverse down the slope for the first time she had fear. Should he be jumping with the titanium rods in his legs?

Grabbing the rope, he sailed over the water with ease but landing on the water's edge causing him to stumble to knees. Pulling his legs out of the muck and water he powered himself onto the still wet land and pumped his legs to the finish line. Looking off he shook his head slightly as if telling himself, "Yeah, I'm back."

The onlookers were cheering wildly. They knew how badly he had been injured yet here he was back and apparently in top form again. Julie ran out and grabbed him. Tears streaked down her face, "I never gave up on you, Papa."

He dipped his head to her sobbing shoulder, "Jules, thank you for giving my life back to me."

By now, other Rangemen clustered around and pulled him from the finish line lest he interferes with the next contestant. He looked around for Michelle as the silver blanket was wrapped around him and hands slapped his shoulders and back in congratulatory gestures. She was with Tank wrapped in silver applauding with the rest. He made his way over and looked at her from head to toe.

"You slip?"

She playfully grabbed a handful of mud from the back of her neck and smeared it all over Ranger, "I didn't slip or land in the water like you," pointing to his muddy legs.

Before Ranger could question her Tank responded, "She flew too high and had to tuck and roll in her landing. It was beautiful but messy."

She looked at Tank, "You taught me well…" She almost said Yoda.

Tank looked at the two muddy contestants and knowing they were hardly suitable for the evening ceremonies he said, "You two are a mess. Go shower."

"Sir, yes sir," Mitch responded. Ranger nearly rolled his eyes.

Together they made their way back to base camp being photographed along the way. Tank and Julie followed.

They stopped for water and food before boarding the bus to return to the motel. The Deacon saw both of them. "Are you two already rutting around in the mud?"

Michelle found another mud glob and flicked it at The Deacon. " _Bingo!_ "

After the pair left, the word around RangemaNinja was not to miss the awards ceremony as something special was planned for Ranger.

When the awards ceremony began, people noted the Deacon had changed clothes. Most had heard or seen Mitch flipping mud on him and figured that was the reason for the change.

The Deacon began, "Thank you to all who participated in RangemaNinja this year. This year we added two new competitions to test your skills. This was the largest group to date including three new women leaving me wondering who is home minding the shops in Boston, Trenton, and Miami?"

As The Deacon spoke, non-Rangeman people began slipping in and sitting in chairs in front of the stage. Most people didn't see them enter. When all were seated, The Deacon was given the signal to begin.

"Before we begin the awards I ask you not to immediately leave for Mt. Manoso. We will be having a very special ceremony after the awards and hope all of you will stay.

"Now first up are our swimmers. Originally our swimmers were former SEALS or other Special Forces. Not anymore, they've been infiltrated and are being pushed to work harder and not fall back on their laurels.

Results for the 1,000 m Sprint have not changed over last year: Doug, Stewart, and Charlotte. However, the fourth through eighth places were less than a second behind. Next year, I expect to see a change in the leaderboard.

"The Underwater 100m. was won by Ram. Second goes to Jason, another swimmer from Trenton. I always knew Trenton was inhabited by lead butts. Third place goes to a newcomer, Bill, from Miami. Charlotte from Boston was the highest placing woman. She took 6th. Good swim, lady.

"In the 5 km Swim, last year's winning time was 95 minutes. This year three swimmers broke that record. I'd like to think the new Atlanta Rangeman pool was totally responsible, but only in part. While the Atlanta swimmers did far better than before, we still got skunked by two from Trenton, though one did use our facilities for a few weeks. Without any further excuses, the first place winner for the 5 km in 89.14 minutes, Ram from Trenton. In second place with 89.29 minutes is Mitch from Trenton. She knocked 24 minutes off her time from last year. Third is Mitch's Atlanta coach, Newell with a time of 91.45 minutes. These are not Olympic-worthy numbers but darn good for a bunch of muscle-bound men. Mitch I'm not calling you a man or muscle-bound, don't get offended."

Mitch ascended the stage wearing a trench coat and long boots. Ram was also dressed up in dark slacks and black long sleeve shirt. They were over-dressed but The Deacon didn't call attention to them.

"Our new swimming event was the 4x400 Relay. Since each leg is swum with different strokes and swimmers, this is a team points only, not individual. However, since Atlanta won, I get to announce the names: Newell, Peaches, Micah, and Robert. Miami was second, Boston third. Trenton doesn't have enough people who float to compete.

"The reason why Trenton can't float is they dominated the Strongman competition this year with their big bones and muscles. Strongman winners are first place Tank, second place Hal, and a newcomer, Manny at third.

"Hand to hand is no surprise: Tank, Ranger, and Kyle from Boston. We had several women enter this and are considering making a women-only event. Let us know ladies.

"It is time to move onto the weapons part of the event.

"First up is Static Shooting. Really no surprise here though you young bucks are starting to get pushy. Ranger is first, Tank is second and me, The Deacon is third. Yeah, Company C still has a little something left. Last year, Mitch took 6th. This year she switched to Active Shooting. So the highest woman Static Shooting is a newcomer, Cyrene from Trenton.

"Active Shooting with one of the most amazing and athletic runs I've ever seen including a face down slide is Mitch from Trenton. Second place goes to Thomas from Boston and third to Jameson from Miami." Once again Mitch ascended the stage still wearing her trench coat.

"Stay here, Mitch. Three Gun with a perfect score and the lowest time, the eagle-eyed Mitch from Trenton. Second place was Greg from Atlanta and third was Marco from Miami. Mitch revealed to me a few weeks ago she was afraid of guns, handguns in particular, due to a traumatic event. You can blame the Trenton Core Team working with her and uncovering a remarkable shooter.

"Two-man Team Shooting. Thank heavens Mitch was busy with the corporate reviews to have time to train with her partner. Scores are an accumulation of hits and time. First place goes to Miami's Herman and Chico. Guys, are you spending too much time at the paintball course? Actually, they were precision in motion, well-deserved first place. Second place goes to Charlie and Bobby from Trenton. Good shootin', Doc. Third place goes to Boston Patrick and Houston. Glad to see Patrick gets off his butt once in a while.

"In the Sniper competition, we have a new winner! Using a L115A3 rifle, Cyrene from Trenton made a perfect hit from 1750 yards, which is incredible in today's weather. For those mathematically challenged 1750 yards is just 30 feet short of a mile. Second place goes to Herman from Atlanta and third to Ram. Ram, you are having a heck of a meet this year.

"The Challenge course must be run by all participants unless they have a valid excuse. For those who never went through Basic Training and there are a few of you, this is what the military calls playground equipment. Now I know Trenton has built an amazing Challenge course out in the woods up there. The rest of you might want to visit it someday if you can stand the Trenton hospitality. Winners of the Challenge course are all from Trenton. We know they have a lousy work ethic up there and now we know why, they are out playing around. First place is the miracle man himself who, a year and a half ago, was paralyzed from a fall, Ranger Manoso." The audience gave him an especially loud cheer and HOOHAs. "Second place is no surprise, Lester. Third place goes to Mitch who this year also gets the award for the muddiest contestant for her excellent tuck and roll at the end of the Tarzan swing.

"For the overall RangemanNinja award, the award goes to Team Trenton. I think it is time to send them to Hawaii for the month of November. And yes, Mitch takes top woman…again. We should hope she doesn't take up hand to hand or weight lifting, then we'd have to name these games after her.

"This year's Mt. Manoso will be a repeat of several past years between Ranger and Lester, but two new contestants, young bucks who should give these old farts a run for their money, Michael from Atlanta and Phil from Boston. Before we adjourn for that event I ask you stay where you are."

The Deacon put on his suit jacket. "For the past six or so years, we have heard about Ranger and his on again off again girlfriend, Trenton's Bombshell Bounty Hunter, Stephanie Plum. For those who don't know, Stephanie went through a complete transformation believing Ranger was killed on a military mission two years ago. With the help of the Trenton Rangeman crew, Stephanie reached deep into herself and discovered an amazing woman buried inside. She toughened up her physical and mental self, gained emotional and spiritual stability to be reborn as Mitch the Bitch whom we met for the first time last year. Since then, we have come to know her corporate alter ego, Michelle who is aiding in the redesigning of Rangeman Security.

"It was at this event last year Ranger returned to duty after a long and painful rehabilitation. At the completion of the Challenge course last year Mitch and Ranger ran into each other. One believed the other dead; the other believed the one was lost forever.

"To celebrate that reunion and the beginning of their new life together, Ranger and Mitch, whom we also know as Michelle, will be getting married here, right now. They wanted their family as well as their Rangeman family to witness this joyous event."

People began cheering.

"It is indeed my honor, by the powers granted to me by the state of Georgia to be the wedding officiate. After all, I am The Deacon."

Stephanie stood and kissed her father, grandmother, nieces and Ranger's parents before removing her trench coat to reveal the lovely burgundy dress with the Queen Anne neckline, cap sleeves, coming to just above her knees. Long thigh-high boots protected her feet from any vestiges of mud. Taking Carlos' hand, they ascended the stage together. Ranger was dressed in black trousers and a light grey silk shirt. Tank and Julie followed them up. Then came the honor guard. Following behind dressed in black trousers and black shirts what appeared to be scabbards on their left legs were Ram, Bobby, Lester, Hal, Woody, Charlie, Cal, and Manny. Hector stood to the side and recorded the event. These were the men that "fixed" Stephanie turning her into the incredible Michelle.

The Deacon began, "The men and young lady who followed Ranger and Michelle up here are the ones who fought hard to bring both Ranger and Michelle back to the light from severe PTSD. Many of us have been there and know recovery cannot be done alone. They represent the Rangeman core beliefs, 'to serve our country, to protect its people, and to assist one another.'

As Carlos and Michelle recited their vows to one another, the clouds that had hung over the event all day, parted. The setting sun turned the fleeing clouds into a glorious color display of pinks and oranges providing a heavenly color display in place of flowers. Michelle turned her head up admiring the clouds and said quietly, "Thank you, Grandpa Mazur."

At the end of the service, the couple turned to the crowd, Ranger swept Michelle back into a passionate kiss to the applause and cheers of all in attendance. Tank pulled Julie back behind him and barked out the sword ceremony commands. Under an arch of ceremonial swords, Mr. and Mrs. Carlos Manoso descended the stage stairs and began their life as husband and wife.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Michelle's and Ranger's families rushed to embrace the newly married couple. Frank was the first to speak, "Pumpkin, I am so proud of you! You've become all a parent could ever hope for. Not only are you beautiful, you are intelligent, talented, athletic, compassionate…"

"Whoa, Dad, can we just hold it at you are proud of me?"

Frank chuckled, "OK. Pumpkin, I am extremely proud of the way you have turned your life around."

"Dad, I am so happy you could come and share this with Carlos and me. It's been a rough two years but now I am happier than I've ever been in my life."

Angie and Mary Alice grabbed their aunt and giggled. Then MA smiled, "Aunt Michelle you can really fly. I want to fly someday, too."

"MA, I was about your age when I first wanted to fly. I never gave up on the idea but learned from experts how to move, control my body, gain strength, and be safe. Maybe you can start gymnastic classes as a first step to earning your wings."

Ranger came close and Angie looked at him, "Do we call you Uncle Ranger or Uncle Carlos now?"

Giving the older niece a 200-watt smile and wrapping his arms around the girls he answered, "I will happily answer to either."

Grandma Mazur pushed in and kissed Ranger on both cheeks while holding her hands on his head. "Thank you for making my granddaughter happy." Ranger reached up and gently took Edna's hands, keeping them under control.

"She has made me extremely happy."

Edna smiled, "I'm behaving myself but the temptation is great; all these beautiful young men!"

Ranger's parents hugged Michelle, "We never thought we'd see the day Carlos would find his heart. Thank you for healing him."

"We've both been healed by these men, especially Pierre," Michelle said as the Merry Men joined in the group hug. "I shudder to think where I would be if it hadn't been for him, Bobby and the rest."

Ranger hugged his father, " _Gracias, Papa,_ _por mostrarme_ _el_ _camino_ _a mi corazón."_ If Ranger and his father hadn't had the conversation well over a year ago in the family home's backyard, there would be no event now.

Michelle was kissed and hugged by the entire Trenton contingent and many from the Atlanta and Boston offices. Carlos was also receiving handshakes and man hugs.

The Deacon came up behind Ranger, "OK, time for Mt. Manoso," he bellowed. "Let the fellow go."

Ranger turned to Michelle, "Gotta go pay back Lester for the Cheetah comment," he smiled. "Don't go crazy."

Out of reflex, she began, "Don't get…" but stopped. She couldn't say "shot" but didn't want to jinx him with something else.

He turned and smiled, "I won't, Mrs. Manoso."

Since RangemaNinja had grown in size, the two day-event lasted past sundown now. Lights were installed as the final event would be held in near darkness. The crowd was drawn to the lights like hundreds of moths. On their way to the tower, most were commenting on their corporate CEO, Ranger Manoso returning after being severely injured. Others were surprised Michelle or Mitch was actually the former Trenton Bombshell Bounty Hunter. All agreed Ranger's marriage was unexpected but they were honored to have attended. The founders of Rangeman Security seemed more like monastic monks in their aversion to marriage. Only Patrick in Boston had walked down the aisle before.

The Ultimate Challenge had several new stations added for this year which quickly whittled down the number of contestants who successfully completed the course. Only four contestants earned the opportunity to scale Mt. Manoso.

Nobody was surprised Lester Santos had made the finals. Maybe it was the Cuban Manoso DNA. The two men, Ranger and Lester, had dominated this event since its inception. With Ranger apparently dead or disabled, it was assumed Lester would dominate as his cousin had. While Lester won last year, Ranger's reappearance cast doubt into Lester establishing a legacy.

Michael was a young, newly released Marine SEAL. Phil was Army Special Forces whose hobby was mountain climbing. Both were several years younger than Manoso and Santos. The spectators were placing wagers who would win. Phil the mountain climber was leading the betting pool.

Julie came up to the front and held one side of Michelle while Tank wrapped his arms around Julie's other side. Other family and Merry Men stood close by. Julie looked up at Michelle, "Why didn't you try the Ultimate Challenge?"

"I've been training with Les and your father. I know I'm not as strong as they are, but the reason is, there are several obstacles that I can't do yet. The 75' rope climb takes more than I have right now. Well, I can climb that high but it takes me over a minute. The bar hop is still beyond me."

"Do you think Dad would train me?"

"Julie, you are a Manoso. He and Les would be honored. What about swimming?"

"I'm already on the school's swim and gymnastics teams."

Tank was listening and chuckled, "The second generation in the making. Lester doesn't stand a chance of having the climb named after him."

Michelle didn't tell Julie she also needed to be employed by Rangeman and she wasn't sure her father was keen on the idea. Unless Julie majored in business, accounting or law, then maybe she would have a job. But knowing her, she'll want to be on the front lines and in that case, it would require police or military training. Papa Manoso would pass a cow.

Returning to the competition, Michelle was trying to remember Lester's time last year. "Tank, what did Les do the climb in last year?"

"He climbed in 37.89 seconds to win, but Ranger's record is 35.07. All Les' life he has been trying to beat his cousin not realizing he himself is damn phenomenal."

The four contestants were dressed in warmup suits as they stretched their muscles and warmed up. Their starting positions had already been drawn and if you knew their warmup movements, you knew who would be going first. All four men's faces were granite as their minds were already zeroed in on their task.

The Deacon had removed his suit jacket and donned a Rangeman warmup jacket as the night temperatures were dropping. "Ladies and gentlemen, we come to the final event of RangemaNinja, the 75' rope climb. To reach this point, contestants had to successfully complete the Ultimate Challenge course without a falter. Several new challenge stations were added that frankly looked damn near impossible to me. We had 40 men but no women competing this year. Out of 40 competitors, four have earned the right to assault Mt. Manoso to become the RangemaNinja for the year. We hope someday the women will join in this event. Starting assignments have been drawn. The first climber will be Michael Burns from here in Atlanta. Mike is a recently released Marine SEAL. Personally, I don't hold either being a Marine or a SEAL against him. When you are ready, Mike, HOOHA!

Mike had removed his warmup gear and was pacing around the starting line. Bobby moved up to the other side of Tank. "What do you think, men?" Michelle asked.

"Les has his work cut out for him. This guy is slightly smaller, muscles are longer and he's seven years younger," Bobby shook his head.

Michael indicated the countdown should begin and waited with one hand on the rope and both feet on the ground for the clock to tick down to zero and a buzzer sounding indicating start. Michael climbed like a piston with arms and legs pumping for the first 50 feet but his pace began to slow. At 65 feet he reset his legs.

"Uh oh, he's out of steam," Tank muttered.

Indeed the last 15 feet were noticeably slower and his transition to the platform wasn't smooth. When he hit the stop button the time read 38.56 seconds.

Both Tank and Bobby were impressed. Last year Lester's climb was 37.89 seconds. "That's less than a second from Les' climb last year," Bobby commented. "Les better bring his A-game."

The Deacon was back. "Our second climber is last year's winner, Lester Santos, Trenton.

Lester was oblivious to the crowd. He and his mind were solely on this climb. When the buzzer sounded he began. Lester and the rope were one, the actions were swift, controlled and the pace never faltered. The crowd began cheering the incredible display and gasped when the final time read 34.81 seconds, almost four seconds faster than Michael's. This was a new record for Mt. Manoso. Lester had beaten Ranger's record.

Michelle was jumping up and down, clapping and laughing but at the same time looking for Carlos. She spotted him smiling broadly and pumping his arm to his cousin.

The Deacon was whistling into the microphone. The crowd began to quiet. "In case you didn't know, up until now the fastest assault on Mt. Manoso to this date was 35.07. We have a new record." Once the cheering again slacked off The Deacon continued, "Our third climber is Phil Longmeier from Boston. Go Army!"

Phil ascended with practiced grace. His years of mountain climbing was evident, but like Michael, the 75' distance was too much. He was beauty in action to 65 feet and then the 'wheels started to slip' to use a locomotive term. His final time was 35.1, just 0.03 slower than Ranger's record.

Finally it was time for Ranger. "Ladies and gentleman, we come to the final climb of the event. Ranger."

Nobody expected to see Ranger back attempting, RangemaNinja let alone the Ultimate Challenge, but here he was at the rope climb. All knew of his paralysis, titanium rods. Most expected to see the old warhorse climb but not to his previous skills. There was an aura of sadness in the air.

The buzzer sounded and Ranger jumped high on the rope and, without wrapping his legs around, he pulled himself up solely by his arms. The crowd gasped in surprise and began cheering wildly.

Tank's eyes were wide, "Shit, I haven't seen him do that in years."

As Ranger neared the top platform he wrapped his legs around the rope to give himself support for the final push to the platform and his feet to reach the buzzer. The time flashed and the arena was quiet for a moment then exploded. The clock showed 33.01. Ranger had knocked a full second off the previous record.

As he stood atop the platform and waved to the crowd below, Michelle noted his expression. There was no jubilation or joy in his eyes, only satisfaction. She knew that was his last climb. He had achieved all he wanted and was now ready for a new life. He did not unlatch his safety harness and come down the stairs. He said something to the safety inspector and then lowered himself back onto the rope and descended, this time with his legs firmly wrapped. He walked a bit slower to the stage where The Deacon presided to receive his award.

After all the congratulations, Ranger took the microphone, thanked all who participated as well as those who attended and then paused. "This was my last assault on Mt. Manoso. It is time for others, like Les, Michael, Phil to take top honors. Thank you all for supporting me in my return. I thank those of you who got me home, the doctors who put me back together, my daughter, Julie, who badgered me worse than any training officer to quit behaving like an ass, to Doc Brown who kicked my butt out of bed and onto the rehab floor….literally. And finally, I thank the woman who showed me no matter how far down we may find ourselves, there are people who will help us and lead us back to the light. Thank you all."

As he finished, Michelle rushed up into his arms. Being the new RangemaNinja was nothing compared to having Babe in his arms. It had been two years since he made love to her. It was time to start again.

As they left the stage, Les wrapped his arms around his cousin. "I promise never to call you Cheetah again."

Ranger laughed and said, "Les, I considered waving off the climb, but I've never quit before and I didn't want to end that way. I knew either way, win or lose, this was my last Ultimate Challenge."

"But did you have to do it hands only?" Les laughed.

"Yeah, I did. The rope rubs against a scar and I didn't want to be bloody on my wedding night." Ranger held out his leg and the spot where the rope passed over his inner left leg looked like it would soon start bleeding.

Bobby saw the abrasion and found the site medic and got a stack of compresses. "Here, put this over the area while you put your sweats back on. Later clean and dry it carefully and use another and more as needed."

In a rare emotional display, Ranger hugged Bobby and whispered, "Thanks, Doc, for…everything." The whisper was quiet as Bobby eschewed the title Doc.

Most of the out-of-state Rangemen caught red-eye flights home that night including the Trenton crew. The Manosos from Newark, Julie, Frank, Edna, Angie, MA, and Michelle waited for Ranger to shower and join them. Grandma Mazur was surprised to see Michelle without Ranger. "I thought you'd be up there helping him shower."

"He asked, but I knew we couldn't keep all of you waiting and, I assure you, it would have been a LOOOONG wait. I'm good for another hour or so."

Just before Ranger appeared, The Deacon and several of the Atlanta Core Team also joined the group for dinner. After all, they were the host city for RangemaNinja.

The Deacon turned to Ranger, "Are you retiring from the competition?"

"I'll stick around for the less strenuous obstacles. Bobby warned me I might be pushing it entering this year. He was right. There are impressive younger guys. Les is going to have his hands full."

Julie looked across the table, "Papa, will you train me for RangemaNinja?"

Ranger stared, not believing what he heard. "Jules, are you planning on working for Rangeman?"

She looked at him like he was clueless, "Somebody will have to take over when you retire."

Ranger was taken aback. The Deacon leaned over and muttered, "Feeling a little old there?"

"Hell, I'm not even 40 and she has me out to pasture."

Mary Alice and Angie were having a wonderful time with Ranger's mother. Perhaps she would become their new Nana in their life. Ranger's folks and Frank were bonding nicely as well.

After dinner everyone adjourned to their rooms, Grandma Mazur lost her control and made a beeline for The Deacon's behind. Having been forewarned, The Deacon spun before Edna's hand reached its intended target. Quickly, he swept the tiny lady up in his arms. "Edna, the only way I can keep track of your hands is to carry you to your room."

The 80-plus-year-old woman smiled with glee.

As Carlos and Michelle made his their way to Carlos' suite, both were looking forward to their bodies becoming reacquainted. As the suite room opened, Carlos swept Michelle up and carried her across the threshold. "This is the first of many thresholds, Babe."

Michelle giggled and kicked her legs in delight. "I can't wait, Batman."

He turned and set the locks while still holding her and then carried her to the bedroom. "Babe, I want to undress you, especially those boots. They have been driving me crazy all night. We'll start with the dress."

She turned her back to him and waited while he slowly unzipped the burgundy dress. "You should wear this color more often. It is the color of passion." He slowly raised the dress over her head. Underneath was a flesh-colored strapless bra and matching satin thong. He stepped back and admired her body. The most he had seen up 'til now was when she was in her swimsuit in Atlanta. Now he saw the abs, firm and defined. While he loved the slightly fleshy Stephanie, the athletic Michelle was causing a painful arousal.

"Sit, I'll remove the boots. Don't lose these. I have visions of future adventures with them." He slowly pulled the boots from her legs. Then, starting at her toes, he began kissing his way up her legs. The skin was still pure white but the feminine squishiness was gone, replaced by soft, taut skin. His hands felt the new muscles, long and hard. Forcing himself away from the bikini panties he went for her lips and worked his way back down her body, masterfully removing the bra and plundering her breasts and nipples before continuing south to the bikini panties. He sniffed and licked like a wolf identifying his mate after a long absence. This was the pheromone that drove him wild for years, this was his mate. Assuring himself, he then stepped back and waited for her to undress him. Would she be put off by his scars? Surgeries, to add plates, screws, and rods to hold him together, left marks.

She saw, she felt and kissed each new mark on his incredible body but did not comment. She too needed to identify her mate's smell and taste. Once each was fully aroused, they began their coupling. Being a gentleman he brought her to release before entering her. Once tied together, their actions were, at first, long and slow but perhaps fearful their time together would be short, they became more needy, grabbing holding, thrusting until they detonated in orgasmic spasms that drained them. One time was not enough to sate their needs, satisfy their appetites. Slowly, they continued to love and explore one another. They clung together fearing any separation, lest it becomes permanent.

As the sun began to lighten the sky, they were still awake, her head on his chest. He played with her hair softly. "Thank you," he uttered quietly.

She tipped her head back, "Thank you?"

"You made me wait. This means so much more to me than our intense but infrequent couplings. It was pure, a gift we could give to only each other. We are truly one."

"Forever."

After a farewell breakfast with the family, Frank and the rest of the Melbourne contingent returned home. Julie and her grandparents went to Miami. The Manosos would visit relatives and friends before returning to Newark. Carlos and Michelle flew to the Bahamas.

"Babe, I would have preferred to take you to the Virgin Islands but the Rangeman villa was nearly destroyed in the hurricane. It isn't quite restored. When it is, we will make a personal inspection."

"Carlos, this is fine. Anywhere with you will be glorious. We can't stay here as long as we want so we'll have a second honeymoon when the villa is complete."

One day the sunny tropical skies turned grey and rain fell, curtailing their beach time. They sat on the covered veranda wrapped in each other's arms sipping a fruit juice blend and talking.

"Babe, several times you have referred to Grandpa Mazur, the last time at our wedding. You never talked about him before, why now?"

"Carlos, it's probably not a good idea to learn your new wife is crazy and delusional."

"Want to run that by me again?"

She got up and went to the kitchen to get more fruit juice and stopped by the liquor cabinet for rum. Ranger looked concerned, "Babe?" Yep, the four-letter version of "I'm not sure I'm going to like what I'm about to hear."

For the next two hours Michelle relived her _Dickensian_ experience leaving off as much description of Tank's house as she could and its location in Maine. Tank did say Ranger knew nothing about it. Instead she concentrated on the nightly journeys where she learned about a baby brother, why her mother never bonded with her, why she was so hung up on baked goods as they represented missing mother's love.

"You were dreaming Babe," Ranger dismissed.

"Then how did my boots and sweatpants get so wet?"

"You were emotional. Perhaps you were sleepwalking outside."

"Tank's house alarm would have gone off and he would have found me."

"I didn't know he had a house in Maine."

She was not going to mention the house was built for her in case both Ranger and Tank were to die. "It is his secret. He would be upset with me if he discovered I told you about it. It is his personal retreat. Though I was there, I can't describe where it is. One tree pretty much looks like another other than the forest was inhabited by killer moose and assassin rabbits."

Ranger chuckled, "Want to tell me about the assassin rabbits?"

She explained some of the training she endured and learning to sit still and observe for hours at a time. "I missed the rabbit close by. If he had been an assassin, I would have been toast."

"Welsh Rarebit on toast?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind, continue please."

"Carlos, how did I know about your mission, the number of men with you, your prayer wishing me a Merry Christmas and the explanation of why you were there? How did I know about Major Andrew's wife's and children's funeral and him telling you never fall in love?"

Ranger remained quiet. He was starting to believe her.

"I also saw events in my life from a different perspective, not my own. The viewing angle wasn't from me but as if I was an observer. The Tasty Pastry incident was a rape, but I had romanticized it to hide trauma, shame, and pain. I never knew why Joe called me Cupcake. I assumed it was because he thought I tasted sweet. But in the experience or dream, heard him say doing me wasn't special, it was like screwing a cupcake. He was more proud he was now King of Trenton."

Michelle paused for a moment in disgust. Her anger was long abandoned.

"I saw your eyes when you uncuffed me from the shower rod and your smile as you drove back to your lair. Most other men would have had their way with me, but you were a gentleman. I saw and smelled your fear when you found me in Stiva's cabinet and again on the bridge. The hurt in your eyes was painful to watch when Hector showed you the files of Joe's misdeeds. You wanted to kill Joe but knew it would drive a permanent wedge between us."

Ranger and the whole Rangeman team had been collecting proof of Joe's unsavory character for years. Briefly it appeared he had changed and truly was ready for a committed relationship with Stephanie. When Ranger announced he was going to propose when he returned to town, Ranger only did so assuming Joe needed only a gentle push. He didn't realize quite the opposite had occurred, Joe no longer wanted a wife.

"Carlos, Grandpa Mazur showed and explained how I was screwing up my life. What really turned me around was seeing the future. One was me running through the woods elated, not frightened. Suddenly as I sailed on a rope someone yelled, "Good Flight, Super Woman!" This was ten months before RangemaNinja. Another vision was of me at a desk and a small boy running into the room and calling me Mommy. My heart nearly burst with love for the unknown child. The most frightening vision was seeing me on a morgue table dead and labeled vagrant as I died from exposure living in my junk car. Grandpa said I determined what would happen, not other people. If I wanted a better life where people respected me, it was up to me to change how I related to others as well as to separate myself from those who would never change."

Ranger took his hand and rubbed her cheek, "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"No, you couldn't help me. You had your own shit pile, your Guzmans. I needed to do this. The physical separation from Trenton, the physical and emotional pain from Tank's instruction and later the rest of the team was exactly what I needed. Literally sink or swim or in this case freeze or survive. When I returned to Rangeman I was still raw. My father came to see me. He had been driving clients around town and saw me running with the men. I told my father I never wanted to talk to him again. He was devastated but it was the spark that ignited the Burg. He went home and told his wife he was divorcing her. Albert saw the problem and left Valerie, taking Lisa with him. You pretty much know the rest."

Ranger was about to speak, but she put her fingers on his lips. "One more story. When I was in Florida with Dad, I relayed some of this to him. He didn't think me crazy because Grandpa Mazur had come to Grandma in a dream and told her to sell Big Blue to a man in Florida and the money would fund a new start for her and her great-granddaughters. Carlos, Grandpa Mazur died in bed from a Viagra-induced heart attack fifteen years ago, but he is still looking out for his family. I want to believe he arranged for that lovely sunset at our wedding."

Ranger shut his eyes trying not to show his own emotion.

"Carlos, is there something wrong?" Michelle asked as she noted one single tear falling from his eye.

"When I was trying to decide if I wanted to live or not, wondering how I could end it all stuck in a hospital bed, I had a dream. You were caught in an ocean riptide. You didn't call out but continued to struggle, swimming parallel to the beach trying to find a way back. Gradually you weakened and appeared to give up. An older man was not far away and said, 'You still have a chance.' He walked away and got into Big Blue."

Ranger paused and drank from his glass. "When I was well enough for desk work, I ran search after search for Mrs. Joseph Morelli, Stephanie Morelli. I tried Trenton, all of New Jersey, and finally the US. I tried Stephanie Plum but nothing came up since December and the apartment fire. Your bank account and credit card were inactive. Then I saw Big Blue, Edna, Frank and the girls in Little Havana. I was a coward, I should have called Tank. I sent a text. He answered, 'Two divorces.' I was confused. So many scenarios ran through my head."

Michelle put her head on his chest, "It's all in the past Carlos. We are starting a new life. We have only the future. If Grandpa Mazur pops in, I'm sure he'll be happy with both of us."

On the flight back from the Bahamas, Michelle realized she didn't know where they'd be living. "Carlos, where are we going to live?"

"Babe, you know I have a house south of Princeton. We'll go there tonight. There's far more room than your studio apartments on Haywood and in North Mercer. If you don't like it, we can look for something else or build something, together."

Of course the house was large, secure and beautifully decorated. The furniture was contemporary, clean line. The bedroom sheets were 900-thread-count as if Ranger Manoso would have anything less. The master bathroom held an oversized tub for two as well as an oversized shower, but then it was a wet-room. They had plenty of room for more intimate activities. The two master bedroom closets and dressing areas were large, no more sharing space. It would take Michelle a full day to explore the rest of the rooms as well as the grounds. Her trained eyes saw all the security features, Ranger was still wary of past enemies. She assumed the grounds and house were monitored by Princeton Rangeman, as the response time would be faster.

Their return to Haywood Street was greeted with hugs and kisses. Those who had not gone to Atlanta in order to keep the office up and running had been shown Hector's videos including the wedding. The general consensus was, "It's about damn time."

After all the congratulatory activity, Ranger was about to bark "report" when he stopped and realized Tank and Lester were still in command. Ranger turned to them and said simply, "Gentlemen, anything I need to know?"

There was a noticeable shift in the air. Ranger acknowledged he was not in charge. Tank almost smiled, "Yep, while the two of you have been….busy getting reacquainted, we've done a little remodeling here. Les and I are not about to give up our offices so we did a little modification and carved out adjoining offices for you two. There are locks on the doors since Les isn't giving up the seventh floor."

**0**

Tank and Michelle soon went to Miami to finish their training and corporate review. Having seen how each city tweaked their business to fit each's unique situation, Michelle was developing a broader insight into improvements across the board. Together, she and Ranger became the corporate side of Rangeman, planning the future, dealing with politicians and negotiating the quagmire of government regulations.

One day Michelle was going through papers and uttered, "I should have married a lawyer."

Carlos was passing by the open door and stopped, "I believe Bernstein is already married," referring to Rangeman's on-call attorney.

Michelle looked up confused until she realized he had heard her utterances. She still hadn't stopped verbalizing her thoughts. By year's end, Rangeman Trenton had a new smooth groove. Hal had increased the number of bail bonds offices in Mercer County from the one on Hamilton Avenue to four. The extra workforce cut into Haywood's personnel. New people were hired and Ranger, Michelle, and Charlie, the ex-MP, started their training school. An office building next to Rangeman was purchased and converted into classrooms and apartments for the trainees. It was the first step in developing Rangeman Academy. In the future, Boston, Miami, and Atlanta would send new employees for training before reporting for their new jobs in their respective cities.

Whereas originally Rangeman stuck pretty much to Trenton proper, they were expanding into new areas such as West Windsor Township including Princeton, Ewing Township between Trenton and West Windsor and far to the east in Hightower and East Windsor. As Michelle oversaw the new auxiliary offices to minimize response time, she realized how confining Chambersburg was; small narrow houses with small, narrow-minded people. As the homes spread apart into single-family dwellings, attitudes also changed. At one time she couldn't wait to leave Trenton or more specifically Chambersburg. Now Trenton and Mercer County were comfortable, but she went out of her way to avoid the Burg. On the off chance she recognized a 'Burger' out and about, they did not recognize her.

Rangeman's growth in Mercer County grew to the delight of most residents. The unmarked shiny dark SUVs with tinted windows were welcomed by residents and businesses. Property crime in rural areas was on the increase and with sheriffs' departments widespread, response time was often long. Rangeman was filling the gap. Law enforcement agencies were often second to the crime scene finding Rangeman vehicles on site and preserving evidence or controlling the scene.

Just as in Trenton, more specifically, Chambersburg, some law enforcement saw Rangeman as interlopers. Michelle or Ranger would talk to the commanding officers personally conveying they all had different jobs and worked better together than jealous of one another. Also, with Michelle's urging, Rangeman employees were frequently seen at recreation centers working with kids in sports, bodybuilding or even tutoring school work. Unlike the Burg where Rangemen were considered thugs, the rest of Mercer County welcomed the men in black.

The exception was the criminal element. Most knew to keep their opinions to themselves, but one, a civil engineer named Anthanios Khoury despised Rangeman's expansion and on several occasions was quite vocal about it. His acquaintances were surprised he knew so much about Rangeman in the little time he had been in the area. But then Joe Morelli, the man behind the swollen belly and full beard of Anthanios Khoury, always did have trouble controlling his temper.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

"We've outgrown Trenton."

"Care to elaborate on that, Bomber?" Bobby asked.

The Core Team met daily to discuss current issues, but once a week they stayed for a more in-depth business meeting. Today was the extended meeting.

"I understand our position relative to McGuire Dix and new hires as well as the initial investment here. Trenton is the state capital and does offer unique government security contracts. You learned a great deal about running a security company here, but business locations are down as this is an economically depressed area. After seeing and reviewing the other three Rangeman locations, I'd like to make a suggestion. We establish a new Rangeman Mid-Atlantic headquarters in a larger city with greater density and leave Trenton as a satellite office, auxiliary location, or training location."

"So we vacate Trenton?" Lester questioned.

"No, not vacate, we hang an additional shingle in a larger city. Trenton will continue to be a training facility as well as keeping our security presence. The urban core and the diverse townships around offer varied training scenarios. We have Haywood, the additional buildings around here, safe houses, a rural shooting range, and Les' playground training center if he'll share."

Tank looked thoughtful, "What led you to this?" He was impressed and proud of the way Michelle had blossomed from the emotionally abused Stephanie Plum into this magnificent and confident woman. Ranger saw her potential, but it was Tank, the Merry Men and Michelle herself who completed the transformation.

Michelle resisted smirking at Tank. He knew exactly what led to this. They had discussed it several times. He was keeping the discussion on track. "Boston, Atlanta, and Miami are large metropolitan areas. Miami-Dade alone has 2.5 million people, with the other communities abutting them. Boston's Suffolk County is 1.5 million plus their suburbs. Atlanta-Fulton County is a million plus their surrounding counties. Trenton is a measly 300,000 and aside from Trenton, the only other population centers are Princeton, Pennington-Hopewell, Ewing, and Hamilton, which we have covered. Our last move in Mercer County has been to East Windsor. We have mined this part of middle New Jersey's ore vein. It's time to find fresher digs."

"Have you looked at other cities?" Bobby inquired.

"I looked at New York. State laws are restrictive, property outrageous, transit times horrendous, but they do have some fine restaurants," she smiled sweetly. "Newark is another thought if we don't cross into New York. However, if we want future satellite Mid-Atlantic sites, Newark is hardly centrally located. Baltimore is getting close to Washington DC. I'm not sure we want to move there, yet.

"Philadelphia is central to our area. It is a 2-hour drive north to NYC and 2 hours south to Baltimore. It has a better business climate and far more upscale properties in one small bedroom community than all of Mercer County. We have had excellent results here with the more upscale clients, but we had had to extend all the way to Princeton. There's another benefit by retaining Trenton: we are respected by the Families in the area. Don Vito arranged for a meeting with Don Enzo Cisternino in Philadelphia. Actually, Carlos already knows him. I think it was more of an introduction of the misses," she smiled.

Ranger didn't say a word but nodded, his eyes sparkling.

"Could we keep our core here and set up a satellite in Philadelphia?" Bobby asked.

"Initially, there would be no problem. I've had problems with the appearance of Rangeman being in three major cities and this rust-bucket Trenton."

Several men chuckled.

"If we are looking at prestige then New York should be our destination," Ranger said softly.

"Our response time would be slow with the congestion. The alternative is for Hector to develop some futuristic ultra-security system and base our operations on it."

"Michelle, Hector is good, but not futuristic," Ranger responded, using her professional name, not Babe.

"Then we need to consider enlarging our research and development department. We have good brains in all four cities. Either we pull them together or hire a techno-geek."

Several guys' eyebrows rose as they considered the potential.

"So is it Training Academy or new office?" Lester wondered aloud.

Michelle was confident, "Training. If and when we make a move, we will need more employees immediately. Also, it will take time to come up with facilities in a new location."

"Wouldn't that overextend us financially as we just purchased the Hitchcock building next door and are looking at others?" Tank asked.

"I'm bringing it up now to start planning. This isn't going to happen next year but soon thereafter if we can get a plan going now."

When Rangeman began years before, nobody expected this type of conversation. Ranger and Tank had talked of possible expansion, but once Michelle came on board, streamlined the business, increasing the earnings and dropping the overhead, the Core Teams suddenly realized they did not have to remain small. Boston, Atlanta, and Miami had all grown to encompass their areas; Trenton was stuck. Philadelphia was 30 miles south, Newark was 60 miles north.

"Gentlemen, I just bring this up for your consideration. We'll have to dig through the numbers, talk with consultants and others before we make a decision. I'm showing the possible future if that's the way you want to go."

As CEO, Ranger stepped in, "Thank you, Michelle."

Tank spoke, "I'd like to discuss something that is a growing problem, again. Several months ago, we had to deal with Guardian Security, Allied Building Products, and sabotage on our systems. They disappeared for a while. Well, _'they're back_.' Apparently they moved their operations from West Windsor and Ewing Townships to East Windsor Township. Now that we are establishing ourselves in this area, we are being targeted again."

Michelle sighed, "Where's Joe Morelli?"

"He hasn't been seen since last summer. He sold his house, closed his bank account, canceled his credit cards, and just disappeared. Hector has been trying to find him. Nothing."

"What about his mother?"

"She refuses to talk about him to anybody. We know the rest of the family considers him a pariah. Even Mooch spits vulgarities when Joe's name is mentioned."

Ranger took over, "Has Terry been seen?" Terry Gilman, Joe's sex-companion since high school was the niece of a mob boss Vito Grizoli.

Lester spoke up, "Word is she went to Italy last summer for….ah…retraining. Vito did not approve of her bringing in Joe Morelli for Family business."

"Did she go alone?"

"Initially, yes, she left broken hearted. Italian Burg gossip indicated the Ferraros were in Sicily last August where they spotted Terry with a Lebanese engineer named Antanios Khoury. Terry tried to avoid the Ferraros when she met them. So the Ferraros asked around to learn the man's name and more about him."

"Sounds like Burg habits die hard…" Michelle mused.

"Antanios? Are you sure it isn't Athanios?" Ranger asked.

"It is the Lebanese version of Athanios. I was confused, too," Les answered.

"So she has moved on? Any chance Vito did us a favor and eliminated Joe?"

"Maybe that's why Angie Morelli refuses to talk about her son. She might have been encouraged to remain silent or the rest of the Morellis would be in danger."

Ranger looked concerned. "Maybe Terry training someone else to take over Joe's job? Let's see what we can find on Mr. Khoury. Meanwhile, determine who is running Guardian now."

"What are they doing to us?" Michelle asked.

Tank shook his head, "The damage is minor. Hector's new 3500 system is nearly tamper-proof. Again, the problem is the kickback to the contractors. Contractors are getting dinged 15% of the bid. In return, they get 5% back to the contractor's pocket, 5% goes for inspection waivers and the other 5% stays with Guardian or a 'discount' on Allied products."

"Sounds like what they were doing before or a variation of the New York scam," Lester added.

"How are they getting inspection waivers?" Bobby asked.

"Unknown," Tank replied. "We are still looking into that. As for New York, that was only 2% but was on much larger projects, like the World Trade Center. East Windsor's contracts are smaller so they need a bigger percentage to make it viable."

"How is this hurting us? It sounds as if the contractors are getting screwed."

"Our systems are more expensive to start. Contractors assume we've already added in the take and want their 5% back plus the waivers."

"Has Guardian solved their fire problems?"

"The State Inspector certified them before retiring to a South Carolina posh retirement community AND he bought a 54' cruiser for a cool half million." Tank left unsaid what he suspected, knowing the others picked up on his innuendos.

"While we research this more, let's stay with existing structures and avoid new construction contractors for now," Ranger stated. "If there is nothing else, the meeting is adjourned."

Bobby came over to Michelle, "How are you feeling? Any nausea?"

Michelle smiled, "Nope, not a thing except I need a power nap after lunch."

Bobby smiled, "Excellent. You were a little rocky for a month, glad things have settled. Stop by the clinic today for blood pressure and weight check."

Ranger wrapped his arms around Michelle from behind, resting his hand where his child was growing. Michelle backed up into his hold and answered Bobby, "How about right before lunch?"

Bobby nodded and left. Ranger kissed Michelle's temple and whispered, "I miss having access to 7."

Michelle smiled as she rubbed her backside against Ranger, "I thought it was the woman who got horny during pregnancy. Your libido seems to be in overdrive."

"I'm considering locking the door and scrambling the cameras."

She stepped forward, "As delightful as that sounds, we both have meetings in fifteen minutes."

"I can be quick, but I'd rather not. We'll table this for later," he smiled.

"Table? Hmmmm. You know if I were to start wearing a loose skirt instead of trousers and no undies…" she teased.

He looked pained. "Babe."

She laughed, "Come on, stud," and led him out of the conference room.

 **00000000**

Several days later, Hector met with Ranger and Tank privately. Ranger shook his head, "I've never heard of Dokuz Eylul University. Any chance it is a fake university where you make a one-time payment and receive your degree in the mail?"

"No, it actually exists in Turkey, but I cannot confirm Antanios Khoury attended. Also, I cannot find any school records for him in Lebanon," Hector replied in English.

"I'm not surprised. Lebanon has been in turmoil for decades."

Hector continued, "I did find an Antanios Khoury entered the US from Lebanon in 1960 at age 20. But he hasn't appeared on a census since. There is no record of him anywhere, except for a New York driver's license issued in 1960, never renewed. It is as if he arrived and disappeared. However, there was an Antanios Khoury entering Sicily last summer with a US passport."

"He has access to fake passports? Curious. That would make him in his late 70's. How old was the man with Terry?"

"Lester called the Ferraros. They said the man they saw briefly was in his early 40's, about the same age as Terry. They described him as full black beard, pot-bellied, and about six feet tall." Hector was bouncing on his feet and smiling.

Tank looked at him, "You look like the cat that swallowed the canary, Hector. _Qué más tienes?_ "

"Mr. Antanios Khoury and Ms. Teresa Grizolli Gilman returned to the US three months ago. She renewed her New Jersey driver's license as Teresa Grizolli Gilman-Khoury. Mr. and Mrs. Khoury bought a home in East Windsor, three months ago."

"And when did we start hearing about Guardian in East Windsor?"

"Three months ago."

"We need pictures of Mr. Khoury."

"You thinking it is Joe with a new identity?" Tank asked.

"Yeah, or she's training Joe's replacement."

 **00000000**

The morning rain had turned to ice as the late winter storm blew into the Mid-Atlantic area. Icicles were forming on roof edges, power lines and trees. While lovely, the entire area was slowly being transformed into an ice prison. Snow perhaps up to twelve inches was expected. Employers were encouraged to let their workers go home early.

Valerie Plum formerly Kloughn put on her winter coat. It was time to go home. She wondered if her mother found the extra whiskey bottle. With the coming storm, she should stop at the liquor store on the way home lest her mother run out of her "iced-tea." Helen was worse than those two brats Angie and Mary Alice who could ferret out Easter candy long before Easter Sunday morning services. Valerie was still upset sweet Angie had sided with her sister, Mary Alice, and moved away. How can a daughter abandon her mother? Well, she would not. She was a proper Burg woman who knew her place unlike that despicable Stephanie.

After chipping off the ice from the car, Valerie got into her mother's Buick. Albert had taken the family car with him to Florida leaving her the car's monetary worth. Yeah, $2000 would hardly buy something drivable. Look at the POS cars her sister was forced to purchase.

The roads were icy. Valerie, like the other drivers, crept out of downtown Trenton towards home. Her mind again wandered as the traffic moved at a snail's pace. That despicable Stephanie had destroyed the Plums, Kloughns, and Morellis. Rumors are she is trans-gendering to be a man. She, or perhaps now he, will never dare to return to Trenton. Well, the hell with Stephanie or Steven and to hell with her father. How dare a man divorce and abandon his wife! But then again her own Albert left her too. To hell with all men!

As she crept down Broad Street she pulled into the corner liquor store. It was surprisingly busy. People wanted their comfort if the electric lines fell from the ice. With several bottles of bourbon and a bottle of Schnapps for herself she left the store and turned onto Hamilton. When the light turned green, she started across Broad Street. Her tires slipped a bit on the ice and the back end of the Buick swung out to the side but Valerie pulled it back in line. But the Buick had strayed over the median line. Felipe Baca, driver of the six-ton Garcia Moving and Storage truck instinctively began breaking, but the big truck began to slide as well. Both vehicles met head-on. Valerie's Buick was less than half the weight of the big truck and was slammed backward into the Fed Ex truck behind her. The crash was extreme. The Buick's airbags deployed but it wasn't enough.

Emergency personnel had to cut her out of the tangled mess taking the critical time needed to get to immediate medical care. St. Francis was just up Hamilton Avenue. Valerie was rushed to surgery while the hospital called her mother. In a panic, Helen Mazur fled out the front door dressed in polyester pants, blouse, and sweater with flats on her feet. She thought she knew the way to St. Francis but her panic and alcohol haze, combined with the blowing snow, she quickly became confused. Instead of running north to Chambers Street, she ran south to Liberty. Certain the shortcut through the alley would bring her to St. Francis, she slipped on ice and went down hitting her head and breaking her hip.

Eddie Gazarra knew Helen Plum did not have transportation to the hospital so he drove to the Plum house. He found the front door open but no Helen inside. Immediately, he put out a Senior Alert for a missing senior citizen perhaps trying to get to St. Francis. A description was given but no name, at least initially.

Rangeman headquarters was monitoring the police radio and the media. They relayed the Senior Alert to all their patrols to look around the Burg for the missing elderly lady who would be on foot and perhaps lost.

Eddie Gazarra called Rangeman as he was one of the few who knew Stephanie now went by Michelle Manoso. Immediately, Rangeman contacted Ranger at his home south of Princeton.

Ranger and Michelle had nearly finished their dinner, looking forward to a time in front of the fireplace as the snow storm blew around them. Ranger's phone murmured.

"Yo."

"We received a call from Detective Gazarra. There has been an auto accident involving Valerie Plum. She's at St. Francis, critical. When the detective went to get her mother, the house was wide open but no Helen Mazur. The police have issued a Senior Alert. I've alerted our patrols."

Ranger was already on his feet pulling Michelle up. "We are on our way."

"What is it, Carlos?"

"Valerie was in a serious car accident and your mother is missing, she may be lost in the storm."

"Carlos, I'm conflicted. They don't want me in their lives, nor do I want them in mine, but…"

"…they are family. This is life and death, Babe. You are stronger than they are, they need your strength whether they want it or not."

Ranger had called Dr. Brown, Bobby, who met them in the emergency room. Bobby was dressed in green scrubs; Carlos dressed in blue trousers and a cream sweater with a blue jacket and cap. Michelle was wearing a white jacket and cap with red leggings. Burg residents recognized Ranger but not the doctor nor the woman with him.

"Come with me," Bobby motioned. They went to a private room behind the emergency doors. "Michelle, I'm sorry to tell you Valerie didn't make it. The injuries were severe. She arrived in cardiac arrest. The doctors tried to revive her, but she was gone. I'm sorry."

Michelle sat down and stared at the floor. "Poor Angie and Mary Alice. They hoped someday their mother would come back into their lives. Valerie wasn't part of my life now, but I, too, secretly hoped she would come around after Helen died." Michelle wasn't crying or weeping, she was resigned. Suddenly she remembered, "Have they found Helen?"

"The Burg grapevine is calling all her old friends. The problem is, they haven't seen her in almost two years."

"Not at church or the beauty parlor?"

"Nothing."

"Babe, do you want me to call Albert and your father?"

"I'll call Daddy. He'll know how to contact Albert." Standing up, she enveloped Bobby, "Thank you."

Bobby hugged her, "I'm sorry Michelle. I'm sorry she is gone and you two never reconnected." Looking at Ranger, Bobby continued, "There will be papers to sign. I'll see how they are coming. You are welcome to stay here for privacy."

Ranger nodded and wrapped Michelle in his arms. They didn't need to talk, they just held each other. Michelle was pulling strength from him to make the call to Florida.

Bobby returned soon after he left. Eddie Gazarra followed him in. He hadn't seen Michelle since the Morelli episode in Pino's. "Michelle."

Ranger and Michelle turned towards Eddie. Ranger spoke, "Detective Gazarra, thank you for calling us."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Michelle. But I come with more bad news. Helen Plum was found dead behind Pete's Bar. An autopsy will be needed but early indications are she slipped and hit her head and died from exposure. She was not wearing a jacket. Apparently she panicked and ran out of the house to come here, but got lost. Pete's Bar is the other way from here."

Ranger didn't say a word, but in his mind he wondered if the Burg gossip would have Helen Plum actually trying to get to Pete's desperate for a drink. On the positive side, the younger Burgers didn't know Helen Plum and couldn't care less.

 **000000000**

The dual viewing at Stiva's was scheduled for a smaller viewing room as it was assumed the Burg no longer cared. Unfortunately, the older Burgers showed up in force for one last gossip about Helen Mazur. The room was packed as was the hall and lobby. Two caskets, side by side. Frank, Albert, and Edna Mazur sat beside the open coffins. Valerie's head had been damaged. Extensive repair was necessary for the viewing. Helen Mazur was hardly recognized. Her body was emaciated from using alcohol as her main sustenance. The embalmers had plumped her back up so her skin didn't say too much. Her hair had grown long and turned grey. She hadn't been to a beauty parlor since the divorce.

While Michelle should have been up with the caskets, she asked if she could remain separate to look after Angie, Mary Alice, and toddler, Lisa. Michelle still had her edgy, super-fit look, short hair on the sides, curls on top now a rich auburn color. She was dressed in a designer black business suit with the same black boots she wore in Atlanta. Ranger, Tank, Lester, and Bobby stood with her dressed in their dark Italian suits. Mary Alice and Angie held Ranger's hands. Tank stood between Michelle and Ranger. She wanted to distance herself from Burg prying eyes. Lester held Lisa, where she found a kindred spirit, as they made funny faces to one another. Tank looked over, "Don't you think she's too old for you?"

The guests came to gawk at Helen Mazur. They were stunned to see how vibrant Edna Mazur looked with her stylish haircut, totally white hair, and perfect makeup. Everyone in the Burg knew an older woman must keep the grey at bay with rinses and dyes and did not bother with makeup other than lipstick. What made Edna Mazur so special? They offered their condolences, platitudes to Edna, remarking it was a shame Stephanie couldn't be at the funeral. Most were clucking their tongues anxious to start a new rumor mill about Stephanie Plum disrespecting her mother and sister.

Edna knew what the old hens were up to and responded, "She hasn't disrespected them. She paid for their funerals. She has advanced in her work and her pay is generous. She had the sense to move far beyond the backward and evil Burg and into the real world like Frank and I have."

The first group of mourners moved to the two gentlemen with Edna. "How did you know Helen and Valerie?" the first viewer asked.

The very trim, head shaved and tanned Frank Plum responded, "I was married to Helen, Valerie was my older daughter."

Mrs. Bartolli gasped. This couldn't be Frank Plum. Did Helen have an affair? It would be just like her to hide her past. The group asked his name.

"You know me, Carlota Bartolli. I'm Frank Plum."

Carlota shook her head no. Frank Plum was a dumpy old man with thinning hair when he lived in the Burg. This Frank had lost weight and muscled up and shaved his head. His complexion was tanned. He looked twenty years younger than he did in New Jersey.

The group of harpies moved down the line. They thought they recognized Albert Kloughn but he was no longer the little doughboy. Albert answered their question before they even asked. "I was briefly married to Valerie. Our daughter, Lisa, is being held by Mr. Santos of Rangeman. Many in the company came to pay their respects to Edna and Frank."

The viewing was scheduled for two hours but even with the mortuary attendants pushing people through, the viewing lasted nearly three hours. At the end of the viewing Joe Juniak came to pay his respects. He kissed Edna and said something quietly that made her smile. He and Frank gave each other man-hugs and handshakes. He shook Albert's hand. Moving on to the Rangemen, he shook each of their hands including the strange woman on the end next to Tank. He was chuckling, "The old hens are wondering who you are. When people ask Hal and Cal in the back, they are calling you Mrs. Manoso, Assistant Director of Business Operations at Rangeman. I won't hug you so you can keep your identity secret."

After the viewing, the family left for Casa Manoso. There was plenty of room. The funeral was scheduled for tomorrow at 10am, so people were eager to get to bed. As they were moving towards their bedrooms, Ranger's phone murmured.

"Yo." He listened saying very little. Afterward he came into the bedroom. "That was Hector. There are rumblings in the Burg's gutters wondering where Stephanie Plum is. Why didn't the Army let her come home for her mother's funeral."

"Anyone in particular?" she asked with disgust.

"It's not the old hens. A single person is going around asking why you aren't around."

"Does this single person have a name?"

"Hector watched him as he interviewed people leaving the viewing. Hector got pictures and ran them through facial recognition. His name is Antanios Khoury. You know him as Joe Morelli. This is what he looks like now."

Ranger showed a picture of Antanios Khoury on his cell phone. The man had gone to pot, literally. He had gained 20 pounds in the belly, was sporting a full black beard and short hair, glasses. His skin tone was darker.

"Joe is back with Guardian security systems, East Windsor. What does he want with me?"

"From the grapevine, he's calling you the Army Bitch, Regimental Groundsheet, and other less-pleasing terms. I'd say he's fixated on you."

"A regimental what?"

"A groundsheet is used in various ways such as erecting a temporary shelter or to lie on the ground for protection. It's one term for a woman who puts out. Regimental would indicate she services many men."

"You said 'less-pleasing terms'. Do I want to know?"

"No, and I won't repeat them. I'm angry and worried. I would rather you not confront him. I don't want our baby born in prison."

"Me too, Carlos. Are you going to suggest I miss the funeral?"

"We'll discuss it with Edna, Frank, and Albert tomorrow. Right now, I'm going to have to remove those boots again. It is a tough job, but someone must do it."

The breakfast discussion was sad. Ella had taken Lisa aside but Angie and Mary Alice refused to leave. "Grandpa, we are old enough to understand."

Frank looked at Edna and Michelle and both nodded affirmatively. Frank sighed, "Ladies, you remember Joe."

Angie rolled her eyes and Mary Alice stuck her finger in her mouth as if to gag herself. If the situation wasn't serious Michelle would have chuckled.

"Mr. Morelli is going around saying bad things against Michelle though he doesn't know she has changed her name. He has mental conditions that make him dangerous and we are afraid he means to hurt Michelle."

"She could kick his ass," Mary Alice replied.

Michelle replied, "Mary Alice, while I could indeed kick his ass, I'm pregnant. I care more about Carlos' child inside me than that piece of trash. I can't take a chance he might have a gun."

Angie spoke quickly, "I'm going to have a cousin?"

The adults smiled. "Yes, ma'am. Next September."

Angie looked down at her hands and thought a minute then looked up. "You can't go to the funeral. He might be looking for you." Mustering more courage than the young girl should have, "I'll never see my mother and grandma Helen again. I don't want to lose you too. Who will help us fly?"

Michelle raised an eyebrow, "You want to fly, too, Angie?"

"We want to be like you," Mary Alice cut in. "Strong, courageous, smart and beautiful."

Michelle started to get teary-eyed. "Thank you." Then, composing herself Michelle said, "And for my nieces, I will remain here today with Lisa."

The two girls scooted from their chairs and wrapped their arms around Michelle.

Frank looked on, "The decision has been made. But ladies, I have several questions for you. What are you going to say if people ask where your Aunt Stephanie is?"

The girls looked at each other and then Angie replied, "Aunt Stephanie is gone forever."

"And if they ask where she lives?"

"She travels a lot and wears a uniform."

"Ah, that's not totally true, Angie," Michelle replied.

"Yes it is. You travel with Uncles Tank and Carlos and you wear your black Rangeman uniform."

"And if they ask if she is in the Army?"

"We haven't seen the uniform so we aren't sure?"

"Girls, I don't want you lying for me."

Frank cut in, "Edna, Albert and I will keep them close."

"I've assigned a group of Rangemen to provide security both in uniform and plain clothes. I'll be at the funeral and interment escorting Edna. I don't want people to think I'm family."

The funeral was at Our Lady of Angels in the Burg. Neither Helen nor Valerie had been inside the church since the divorces but Father Lourdes wanted to do the funeral. The funeral service was traditional but no communion was offered. People began to wonder why. At the completion of the service, the priest looked over the surprisingly well-attended funeral and began a eulogy. It was not what people were expecting.

"Today we commend the souls of Helen Mazur and Valerie Plum. We pray God will be merciful but God's mercy may have limits."

This caused the harpies in the pews to smile.

"Helen Mazur married Francis Plum believing she was doing her duty as a woman. In short order, Valerie was born and Helen was overjoyed. She was congratulated by the community women for bearing such a lovely daughter. But she was not happy for she remembered Luke 2:23 'as it is written in the Law of the Lord, Every firstborn male that opens the womb shall be called holy to the Lord.' Helen did not feel her duty as a woman was complete until she bore a son. Eighteen months later, she bore another daughter. Helen became depressed. The women in the Burg were not helpful and they continually told her to try again for it was a woman's job to give her husband a son. Though Frank was satisfied with two lovely daughters, Helen insisted they try again. This time a son was born, Francis. The pregnancy was extremely difficult and Francis was born prematurely. Helen had complications and nearly died. Surgery was necessary. Her childbearing was over. Francis was never well and died while still an infant. Helen and Frank were devastated. Instead of consoling the grieving couple, the Burg's tongues began to say, 'Poor Frank. He doesn't have a son.' Helen Plum became angry with God and her second daughter, Stephanie. Frank became depressed and withdrew from the family as a leader, becoming solely the financial support. Helen left the church. When Edna lost her husband and came to live with Helen and Frank, Edna brought Helen back to church. Though outwardly pious, Helen was still angry at God and sought martyrdom by blaming her unhappiness on her younger daughter. She participated in gossip, vilifying her daughter and others around the community. Sunday after Sunday, I preached about the evils of gossip, but nobody listened.

"Proverbs 21:23 - Whoso keepeth his mouth and his tongue keepeth his soul from troubles.

"James 1:26 - If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion [is] vain.

"Matthew 12:36 - But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the Day of Judgment.

"Proverbs 18:8 - The words of a talebearer [are] as wounds, and they go down into the innermost parts of the belly.

"1 Timothy 5:13 - And withal they learn [to be] idle, wandering about from house to house; and not only idle, but tattlers also and busybodies, speaking things which they ought not.

"Proverbs 17:9 - He that covereth a transgression seeketh love; but he that repeateth a matter separateth [very] friends.

"This last proverb is especially poignant because through Burg gossip a family was destroyed. A lovely daughter, Stephanie, became the focus of malicious rumors. When she was sexually abused at age six by an older boy, Helen blamed her and told the community her daughter was trouble. When the same boy raped her at sixteen, Helen blamed her daughter's promiscuity. Not one person argued that Stephane was the victim. All of you jumped on the bandwagon demonizing the young girl. Why? Because she was born a girl, not a boy? Or perhaps you enjoyed spreading lies and innuendos about others while destroying your own souls. You drove a lovely lady from the church.

"When Stephanie found her husband committing adultery, she left him and returned home. Helen slammed the door in her face telling her to go back to her husband. Yet three years later when Valerie returned home having discovered her husband had committed adultery, she was welcomed back into the family. Helen's hypocrisy was only trumped by the wagging tongues around town and in this parish every Sunday. You sat here defiling the Lord's house with your evil gossip.

"Stephanie set out to support herself with a difficult job. Did her mother support her? No, she took every opportunity to malign her while playing the martyr with you gossipers. Stephanie's family, cousins, school friends and co-workers never missed an opportunity to spread malicious rumors. Even the despicable newspaper began printing the gossip. Perhaps the ultimate betrayal was Helen and the Burg continually trying to push her into a marriage to the man that abused her years before. Stephanie Plum began to fracture. Falling to her mother's and the Burg's pressure, she accepted the proposal from her abuser. But once again the mortal sin of adultery raised its ugly head and Stephanie was once again betrayed. This time she shattered. She ran from the Burg, ran from her parental home, ran from the few people who cared about her. When it first appeared Stephanie had died in the fire at her apartment, gossipers turned on Helen wondering if she had set the fire. Once again, another life was shattered by wagging tongues. Helen fell into severe depression as she lost her exalted position on the Burg's gossip grapevine. She refused mental help because 'what would the Burg think?'

"It was this destruction of his second daughter than woke up Frank Plum. He saw his family devastated and unrepairable. His older daughter had become a mirror of her mother, verbally abusing one daughter while adoring the other. He saw his older daughter take to alcohol the way Helen had. He had to save what was left of his family: his granddaughters. He, Edna, and Albert left with the girls to start a new life well away from the viper pit filled with wagging tongues, lies, and innuendos known as the Burg. Satan himself has found himself welcome in the people of this parish and this community. Your wagging tongues destroyed two marriages, destroyed Helen Mazur, destroyed Valerie Plum, and destroyed Stephanie Plum.

"I say to all of you today the words of David in the Old Testament, Psalms 101:5 – 'Whoso privily slandereth his neighbor, him will I cut off: him that hath has high look and a proud heart will not I suffer.'

"Today, I refused to conduct communion. I'm not sure anyone here is worthy to partake of the Eucharist. He or she who is not fully prepared through prayer and repentance and partakes of Holy Communion condemns their souls. Helen Mazur's and Valerie Plum's time for repentance is over. Only God's mercy will save them. Your time is not yet over. 'Turn away from your sins, because the Kingdom of heaven is near!' (Matthew 4:17)"

The congregation was stunned. Frank, Albert, and Edna had been warned ahead and had Angie and Mary Alice quietly removed before Fr. Lourdes began his sermon. It was too intense for the young girls. When the caskets were rolled out of the church followed by the family, Edna, Frank, and Albert kept their eyes straight ahead, looking at nobody. Ranger and other Rangemen escorted them to their limousine. The girls were safe with Lester and Bobby in a Rangeman vehicle. All left the church parking lot.

Edna, Frank, and Albert provided a lunch for attendees before the interment in several hours. It was proper Burg protocol. Attendees filed into the church hall but few partook of the meal. Few people spoke and most left early. Servers packed up the food and took it to the local homeless shelter.

The interment was not at the Our Lady of Angels cemetery lest the parishioners continue to gloat over Helen's and Valerie's passing. Nor was it at Greenwood Cemetery, the backup Burg cemetery. Edna, Frank, and Albert had the caskets interred in Fountain Lawn in Ewing, far from the Burg. Few people attended the graveside ceremony. Rangeman guards were dressed in civilian clothes and stood well away from the funeral watching for one individual. He was seen, standing alone behind a large oak tree. Joe Morelli was still looking for Stephanie Plum.

Ram and Cyrene were several hundred yards away with rifles trained on Joe. Cyrene quietly murmured into her microphone, "I could easily eliminate that cockroach from here."

Ram replied, "Our orders are to wait until he makes a threatening move. We have to see a handgun or rifle."

"Pity."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23** Reinvention Finale

Thank you for your patience! I hope never to string a story out like I have this one. I hit the "wall" and couldn't come up with an ending. As usual, my Beta, Kathy, made this readable.

0-0

Joe Morelli, a.k.a. Antanios Khoury, stood behind the oak tree watching the interment of Helen Mazur and Valerie Plum. The family was arranged single file, holding hands. Frank was on the end holding the younger granddaughter's hand. Joe couldn't remember her name, Mary or Maria. Next was Edna Mazur. The older granddaughter was next in line holding Albert Kloughn's hand.

"Damn, she's not here," Joe muttered. "No way she'd miss her mother's and sister's funeral unless she was too far away or too embarrassed to show her face."

Ranger's earbud whispered, "Forty yards, southeast behind the oak." It was Cal standing in civilian clothes at a different grave.

"Copy one," whispered Ram. "Copy two," whispered Cyrene.

Carlos moved slightly to his left giving Joe Morelli a better look behind Edna.

Joe saw someone move behind Edna. It was Carlos Manoso. "What the hell is he doing here?"

By the time the graveside service ended, Joe had his answer. Frank was holding one granddaughter's hand, Albert the other. Apparently the third child was left with a babysitter. Edna was relying on Manoso to walk through the uneven cemetery ground. She was visibly shaken, having just buried a daughter and granddaughter. Even Joe's hardened heart understood the need for a strong and steady arm. Edna always had a softer spot for Manoso over Joe.

Joe had been unable to find out anything about Stephanie Plum. He hadn't attended the viewing as it was filled with people who might recognize him. Instead he waited outside in the dark to talk to people as they left. The early gossipers were remarking the reason Stephanie hadn't attended as she was overseas with her job but was able to pay for the two funerals. The consensus was split, the daughter should have attended the funeral and others were commending her generosity. Some were still passing around the transgender gossip about Stephanie becoming Steven. After seeing her at Pino's, Joe didn't entirely scoff at the gossip.

All were surprised at the appearance of Edna, Frank, and Albert. They truly found the Fountain of Youth in Florida. Several questioned why Carlos Manoso was present until others reminded them Frank had been an Army Ranger years before. Perhaps Carlos was supporting a fellow Ranger. Finally a few viewing visitors remarked about Carlos Manoso's very professional looking wife, the redhead. She was very athletic but then what would one expect from Rangeman. Nobody understood how he could have been in love with Stephanie Plum, she was ordinary looking, mentally unstable, and prone to one disaster after another.

A few scattered gossipers brought up the failings of Joe Morelli, his drug charges. "I'm sure Stephanie drove him to drugs the way she drove her mother to drink."

Joe did not attend the church ceremony. It was harder to hide in the church. He did watch from across the street just as he was doing at the cemetery. Just like here at the interment, there was no Stephanie Plum. He had no target. Joe's handgun remained in his pocket. He returned to his car and drove back to East Windsor and his wife.

Once back at Casa Manoso, Michelle noted her grandmother's wane waning appearance. "Grandma, do you want to go upstairs and take a nap?"

Edna mentally shook herself, "No. I'm afraid I might slip away in my sleep. I need to be among the living." Putting her arms out she motioned for Michelle to come to embrace her. "I need your strength right now until I get centered again. I have to stay around to greet your young one. Hopefully, the baby looks like your husband."

Michelle understood. While she had "a thousand chores" none were more important than being with her grandmother and the rest of her family.

The following morning, Ranger was the first one down the stairs and into the kitchen where he found Edna humming while she cooked sausages. Ella was nearby mixing batter. The two women looked radiant. "Good morning ladies."

Edna's eyes shone as she put down her tongs and came over to Ranger wrapping her arms around his chest. "Indeed it is a lovely morning, stud muffin. I can't thank you enough for all you've done for us."

"You seem chipper today, Edna," Ranger said as he carefully reached around to take Edna's hands. He didn't trust the twinkle in her eye.

"Today is a new day. The number of days ahead for me is far less than what is behind. I can't afford to waste any. What was is past. It can't be changed, but I can face the sun and move on, plus I have a few gentlemen friends waiting for me back home." She hooked her arm through Ranger's and walked towards the dining room away from Ella. "Michelle told me you had a visit from my husband while recuperating in Florida."

Ranger wasn't entirely sure if it was a visit or a reaction of to some of the pain meds.

"Carlos, I was so depressed last night, I was afraid to go to sleep. I even considered crawling in bed with you and Michelle but didn't think you would appreciate it."

Ranger's eyes opened a bit but saw Edna may have been kidding. He hoped she was kidding.

"Last night, my dear husband came to me before I went to sleep and told me it wasn't my time. I needed to get back to living. Each day is a blessing even if it is filled with pain or disappointment. I asked him if he was tired of waiting for me and he smiled and said, 'My dear, time has no meaning here.' He also told me I was not to blame for Helen or Valerie. He reminded me that I encouraged Helen to explore the world before settling down in marriage, but she was never interested in being anything other than a wife and mother. With his urging, I remembered her constantly berating me for not keeping a perfect house, joining my lady friends playing canasta, dancing the night away with my husband, and playing cowboys and Indians with Step…Michelle. I can still feel the rain as it bounced off my face as I taught your wife how to catch raindrops in her mouth. Valerie stood inside and scowled. She drove my husband and me crazy. I figure she was a genetic mutation, a termagant, and she passed it on to Valerie. Thankfully, my other granddaughter inherited the happier, crazy Mazur genes. Michelle should have had a better childhood. I hope you continue to let her be the free spirit she's tried to be for so long."

"I'm trying, Edna."

"She is free but also responsible. She is finally enjoying life. Losing her mother and sister the other day was stressful. That little bit of Stephanie she hid hoping for the miracle reconciliation surfaced again. Father Lourdes talked to her before the viewing and helped her understand not everything can be resolved. We carry regret but cannot let it carry us. All we can do is ask for a helping hand from above."

Ranger kissed Edna's cheek and said softly, "I hope our child or children inherit the crazy Mazur genes. I look forward to the challenge."

Albert Kloughn needed to get back to work. He and Lisa left the second day after the funeral. Frank, Edna and the two girls stayed a few days longer. While the family had fractured, they were bonding together again. All made a point to stay away from the Burg and rarely left Casa Manoso. But the proximity to the Burg further depressed them. They wanted to see old sites but the thought sickened them. They had made new lives in Florida and decided to return. Carlos promised to bring Michelle down often before the baby was born.

 **00000000**

The winter cold gave way to a lovely spring in New Jersey. Vito Grizzoli had been at his winter home in the Caribbean since early October. He had grown to detest winter cold. His work was handled locally by his consigliere, his underboss, as well as the capos with near daily phone or email communication. He received daily notes from his niece, Terry, in Sicily. She was happy there. Before he returned to New Jersey he decided to visit her in Sicily. He wanted to share in her happiness.

The flight to Palermo went via Paris. To break up the trip he spent a couple of days in Paris. The weather was rainy and cool. He was looking forward to the Mediterranean climate. At least it would be warmer on his aging bones.

He and his bodyguard had reservations for a few nights at Le Meurice. Vito appreciated the hotel's grandeur but at well over $1,000 a night it had better have more than good sheets. He and his bodyguard, Rudolpho, decided they needed a walk after the long flight. They walked briskly down the Rue De Rivoli getting the stiffness out of their legs. There were a number of restaurants and cafes in which they could dine, but old tastes won out. Instead of a French meal, they turned into Tutti Amici's. Living in the Caribbean since last fall, they had eaten their fill of fish. They ordered Spaghetti Carbonara. A meal of pork fat could be tolerated one or twice a year. They were wiping their mouths after the meal when the bodyguard stiffened and reached under his coat. "Don Signore Marco Giuffrida is heading our way."

It had been ten years since Marco and Vito had seen one another but the bodyguard was good: he remembered faces. The two Dons met each other like long lost brothers.

"Vito, you are trim and tan, you've been away from Jersey for a while. That place ages people prematurely."

"Yes, the air is cleaner in the Caribbean and the winters are filled with sun, fishing and lovely women."

"Are you now retired?"

"I'm looking at my options, Marco. All these worldwide electronics, international door-to-door shipping, it's hard to establish territory. Immigrants, casinos, legalized drugs, and the building depression make me think it's time to let others fight for the scraps."

"You've done well on the scraps."

"Well enough, but my mind craves a simpler life now."

"Vito, you've never been extravagant. You are more like a cheap SOB."

"No, no, Marco. I have no use for the luxury life. Though having set money aside has let me enjoy my vacations someplace away from the pollution."

"Are you leaving the business to Teresa?"

Vito shook his head no. "She is a very smart but stupid woman. It's said men's brains are in their pants. Her brain is also in men's pants. Lately, she's been making bad choices. I sent her back to Caltanissetta to Zio Umberto. I'm headed there in a day or two to surprise her."

Marco looked confused, "Vito, my friend, I was in Caltanissetta only last week. Teresa left Sicily months ago with a new husband. He's a Lebanese engineer. He speaks Sicilian Siculo very well, so people say, but with a strange accent. Maybe it is the Lebanese."

Vito remained calm but inside a full dialog was under way: She mentioned she would leave Sicily in a few weeks to travel to London and return to New Jersey for the summer. There was no mention of a man. "Where did they go?"

"They went to New Jersey."

Vito said shrugged, "No need to continue to Sicily. Maybe I should return to my little island where it is warmer. Tell me Marco, how is your family?" Vito had perfected the ability to think while listening to others drone on while his mind processed other information. Back at the hotel, Vito fumed. Why had his own men not reported Terry was back in America? Who was this Lebanese? Had there been a takeover? Who was in charge? He dare not show weakness or Ragni would swoop in and clean house including Vito Grizzoli. But he needed to know. Who could he trust?

 **00000000**

Vito watched the young Carlos Manoso move into Trenton and begin Rangeman. He seemed to understand the unofficial rules regarding business arrangements and came to Vito early on. He explained his plans to start a security company but needed to make money first. Vito offered him a job, which Carlos immediately turned down, fearing Vito had misinterpreted the visit. "No, sir, I am going into bond enforcement for Vincent Plum to raise capital. I am not out to break your people's balls or other Family members unless they give me the trouble. I am not a policeman. I will be working to find those who skip out on their bonds. I would encourage your people to keep their court dates."

"I can't control everyone."

"No, sir, but understand if balls need breaking, it is not a ploy against you."

Over time, Vito and Ranger developed a working relationship of trust and honesty. Ranger was willing to do work for the Mob if it wasn't wet work. When Ranger introduced Stephanie Plum to him at a restaurant in Hamilton, Vito could read the admiration, even love, in Carlos' eyes though his heart was far behind. The few times Vito's men got stupid and went against either Ranger or Stephanie, they regretted it, especially DeChooch. After DeChooch's 'suicide', Vito contacted Ranger privately, "Giustificato." (Justified)

Ranger and Michelle were returning from a luncheon appointment with a big client when Ranger's cell phone murmured. He glanced at the caller and answered, " _Don Vito, Buona sera._ _Come è la pesca?_ "

Vito growled, "To hell with the fishing. I need information. Have you seen Terry recently?"

"Don Vito, please let me pull over to the side of the road. This conversation will be difficult."

Michelle looked over and suspected she knew what was about to be discussed. She pulled out her cell phone and texted back to Rangeman they were parking for an important telephone call that may last a while and the next office appointment will have to wait.

When Ranger stopped the car, he took a cleansing breath and continued with the call, "Yes, I saw Terry two weeks ago in Manalapan Township. Rangeman has expanded into Monmouth County."

"What the hell was she doing out there?"

"Sir, normally I wouldn't know, but things have been happening that concern my company and my wife. I needed more information. Terry has resumed Global Security and moved her territory. She and her husband have a purchased a home in Manalapan Township. It is quite secluded and very well-guarded with active and passive units."

"She has guards patrolling the grounds?"

"Yes, sir."

"I didn't know she was married until two hours ago. Have you met her husband?"

"Yes sir, but not in his current identity. I knew him before. She is married to Antanios Khoury who passes himself off as a Lebanese engineer."

Vito moaned. How did Terry learn his name? Was this a deliberate stab to his heart?

"Do you know him, sir?"

"I knew him nearly 60 years ago. You don't need to know more."

Ranger could guess. The man vanished soon after arriving in America. Did he run afoul of the Mob in New York? Ranger had speculated on various scenarios but never put Vito's name with the thoughts. "Don Vito, Helen Mazur and her daughter Valerie died some months ago. My wife and I agreed she should keep a low profile from the Burg gossipers at the funeral as her new identity is unknown to most. One individual, Antanios Khoury was quite vocal around Trenton looking for Stephanie Plum. His words were very disrespectful and dangerous. For my wife's sake, we identified him. He's Joe Morelli."

Vito mumbled expletives quietly and then spoke clearly, "You said Global is back in business. Are they tied in with Allied as they had been in the past?"

"Yes, sir, and the concrete company, Penchant. All three are now part of a bigger corporation named GAP Industries. Terry and Joe are the CEOs. They are conducting business as before but with a 15% tag."

"Are they successful?"

Ranger was wondering why this conversation wasn't being held with the consigliere or capos unless he suspected they were involved with Terry. "They were originally in East Windsor but there wasn't enough high-end building. They dropped their clients and Rangeman picked them up. GAP Industries is in Manalapan Township where there is an increase in growth. The business deals exclusively with new construction contractors."

"You said Rangeman was also in the area."

"Yes, sir, we are sticking with existing facilities. We are not pedaling drywall and concrete."

"How are they doing?"

Ranger was hesitant. "Fires have started again." Ranger and the rest of the staff had long suspected arson was a way for Joe to drum up new business. Perhaps Vito also suspected.

Vito sighed and his voice aged twenty years, "Thank you for your honesty, Carlos. I wish you much happiness with your wife, Michelle."

"Thank you, sir. _Può vivere molti anni._ " (May you live many years)

Vito huffed, "I seriously doubt it. Come to my island, we will fish and talk about better times. Goodbye, Carlos."

 **00000000**

The betrayal hit Vito full force. Not only was Terry responsible but so was Vito's consigliere. The man should have told Vito that Terry was back. Plus, there was no way she could get control of Penchant and Allied without his help. Then there was Bustello, the attorney. He was in the process of signing over Allied to Terry a year ago. When questioned, he explained Terry had said she had her uncle's permission. She has never been so reckless and disrespectful until the Christmas _affari triste_ (sad affair) with that _bastardo_ Morelli. The newspapers went crazy.

Michelle looked at Ranger, "He didn't know."

"Apparently not. There may have been a silent coup and now Vito's life could be in danger. We don't know if Terry is in charge or consigliere Antonio Scarletta or underboss Franco Franchetta. We need to stay completely clear."

"Will Terry and Joe succeed? "

"I doubt it. Neither is that smart. She succeeded because she had her uncle's backing. Joe was a lousy cop, dancing on the dirty side. He was also lazy. He milked you for information to solve many of his cases."

"Yeah, I finally figured that out. What will happen?"

"Ragni will clean house."

"Who?"

"The Five Families run New York and Northern New Jersey. Ragni runs South Jersey down to Baltimore. Vito's wife was a Ragni. She died years ago and Vito remained loyal and in return he was given South Jersey minus Atlantic City. It was logistics. It's easier to control out of Philadelphia than Trenton. Vito runs the docks, railyards, and unions. He also is heavily into computer fraud. The contraband he let the immigrants run; the Latinos, Russians and the like. Those enterprises are too dangerous now, no code among members. The problem is Vito will also be eliminated as a weak link unless he can solve the problem himself first. Ragni has no choice."

"Joe and Terry?"

"They'd better find a good travel agent and soon. I believe New Guinea might be nice this time of year."

Vito scrolled through his cell phone. The name and number were wrong, but he purposely put it in that way so others wouldn't find it. It was an elaborate code that if called as written would get a car rental agency in Fort Lauderdale. Vito unscrambled the number and listened to the ring.

The voice at the other end was strained yet excited. "Hello?"

Vito waited.

"No, sir, this is not Salvatore's Pizza." It was a code it was too dangerous to talk, but the recipient would call Vito back shortly.

Vito waited for the return call. It was only seven minutes later. "Don Vito, you are recovered?"

" _Che tipo di domanda è?_ " he grumbled. (What type of question is that?)

" _È stato detto che stai per morire_." (I was told you were dying.)

" _Manache!"_ Vito swore then quickly apologized. "Please, _signora_ , who has told you I am dying?"

" _Signore_ Bustello."

Vito's attorney. " _Signora_ , is anyone else saying the same?"

" _Si, si_. Antonio Scarletta and Franco Franchetta. They came to the office with Ms. Terry last month. They wanted to rearrange accounts quickly to continue the businesses because you were so ill.

Vito suspected his consigliere and underboss had to be involved as well. He now had confirmation.

" _Signora,_ please tell me you still have the key to the locker."

" _Si, si, Don Vito_. I have kept it up to date. Do you want me to use it?"

" _Si, la mia femminile._ " (My beloved)

" _Don Vito_ , you have taken care of my family all these years. I will not fail you."

There's nothing like a good spy in Bustello's office. When "the key" is inserted and turned, Vito's leaders will find themselves at each other's throats. Their money and investments will be flushed, and papers released implicating each other. They will be intent on revenge and Ragni will be able to move in with minimal effort. Those who don't pledge immediately loyalty will not see their money or save their lives. Only one other person knows the name of the attorney spy and her brother was sitting in the same room as Vito, the bodyguard. If Vito ever died, she knew to turn "the key" immediately.

Vito prepared "the key" for emergencies, hoping he'd never find it necessary. He had laid out his plans years ago and with a heavy heart he was going to have to set it in motion. Vito hung up and turned to his bodyguard. "We are not going to Sicily."

Terry was like a daughter to him, as he and his wife were childless. Terry's mother was his sister who married a _straniero_ , a foreigner, in Trenton named Thomas Gilman. Thomas Gilman was an attorney who did corporate work for Vito. He was not a trial lawyer so he was never associated with mob defense cases. Terry was a privileged child, the lovely blonde child with more money than sense. She was a wild child and preferred to run with the edgy crowd and in particular, Joe Morelli, his brother Anthony and even the dimwitted Mooch Morelli. While the Morelli boys were out laying everything in skirts, Terry was working her way through the 501 Levi set. She started birth control at age 14 after a pregnancy scare a year earlier. She was an early bloomer. No matter how much she trolled the trash, she kept most of the male fishing expeditions out of Mercer County. Her only permanent companion was Joe Morelli which is why they were voted the King and Queen of the Senior Prom. She went to college at Princeton and got a degree in law from Penn State Dickinson. She returned home to work with her father for a year before his passing and then went to work with her uncle Vito. Fully expecting to become his consigliere immediately, but was told she needed to be groomed for such a lofty position. She accepted her probation but never expected it to last so long. When she asked Vito why, he said her decisions weren't always made with the Family in mind.

"What do you mean, Zio?"

For one, calling him 'uncle' was not the level of respect he expected. He would answer her, "You cannot sleep with the enemy."

"Joe?" She laughed. "I've got him right where I want him. He ignores our problems out of his need for me. He also lets me know when we have legal concerns with the police. More than once he's told me about problems in our distribution areas."

"He's your snitch?"

"Yes," she laughed. "Snitch for my snatch."

Vito was horrified at her crudeness. She was raised to be a lady.

"He's too dangerous. He flies off the handle too often. Look at the way he talks to Stephanie Plum."

"I don't believe he'll marry her. She's a disaster. She'll never be a decent…anything. She's a lousy bond apprehension agent. There's not a domestic bone in her body. The only thing she has going for her is she'll sleep with him on demand."

"And if he does marry her, what will that do to your boy toy?"

"Nothing changes. He's not faithful to anyone but his own _cazzo._ "

When Joseph and Terry were caught nearly In _flagrante_ Christmas morning, everything began to crumble. The photograph broke open Terry's and Joe's secrete. Joe Morelli, a police detective, was sleeping with the Mob. When Stephanie Plum disappeared, the three suspects were Joe, Terry or Helen Plum. Terry's name was in the newspaper way too often. Her usefulness began to diminish. One needs to keep a low profile to become a consigliere and possible heir. The Valentine's Day surprise when Stephanie reappeared to give Joe's engagement ring to Terry made Vito wary of his niece. Was she seriously considering marrying Joe Morelli? When she bailed Joe out and paid for his drug rehabilitation, that's when Vito knew Terry was on thin ice and it was cracking quickly. The Global Security fiasco was the last straw, he should have ended it then, but he hoped Terry would return to the fold. Her trip to Sicily was to get Joe Morelli out of her system. Instead, she married the SOB!

Don Vito lived frugally unlike so many other Dons. He paid Ragni promptly and filtered most of his "excess" money to the Caymans. Ragni had asked him why the frugality and Vito replied, "I would like to retire someday." The someday was at hand, but first he had work to do. He needed to call Ragni.

" _Primo Don Vicenzo, Vi auguro buona salute._ "

"Vito, how is the fishing, my brother?"

"It is time, Vicenzo, it becomes my full-time profession. Ash has settled on the door threshold, I must sweep it clean."

Ragni didn't like hearing what Vito was saying. "Tell me, my brother."

So, with a heavy heart Vito explained what his errant niece had done probably with Antonio Scarletta, Franco Franchetta, and Bustello. "I should have ended it two years ago, but I hoped she would regain her mind. My heart is broken. I will do what needs to be done. I dare not speak for you, Don Vicenzo, but there is a matter unresolved in my heart. The idiot cop trespassed on Philadelphia. I corrected it, but it hurt my standing with Enzo Cisternino. With the coming opening, I would hope the position might be filled by Enzo before Five Families find out and swoop down the Delaware."

"That is most gracious. I will keep it in mind for the future."

"It is only your decision, not mine, as always. The situation will be rectified soon."

"You are not asking for my help?" Ragni asked.

"No. The error is mine, I will clean it up. I will keep it clean."

Don Vicenzo Ragni had always admired Vito Grizzoli's ability to tend to business, keeping the police away from his door. Others needed to learn from him.

 **00000000**

By May, Michelle was obviously pregnant. Being in her late 30's for her first pregnancy, the doctor was monitoring her closely.

"Michelle, the little guy is fine, progressing the way he should. There are no abnormalities which was verified by the amniocentesis. You are keeping your health perfect, exercising as you should, but then I know Dr. Brown wouldn't have it any other way."

"Nor my husband and the entire office," she smiled.

As Michelle and Ranger left the doctor's office heading towards the parking lot, the lobby front desk receptionist said brightly, "Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Manoso."

Antanios Khoury was just exiting the elevator when he heard the exchange. He saw Ranger and his pregnant wife. Antanios froze. He knew Ranger's wife, it was the Army bitch from Pino's, Stephanie Plum. When did she get out of the Army? She shouldn't be out for another few years. Joe quickly turned away. He needed to think.

"Did he see us?" Michelle whispered.

"I was watching the reflection in the door. I'm pretty sure he did."

"We need to lose him if he tries to follow us."

"We'll go to Haywood. He will assume we live there, instead of up north."

"He might be a good training case for our recruits, surveillance without being spotted."

"Talk to Charlie. He'll set up the training. But as far as you…"

Michelle put out her hand, "I know what you are going to say. Years ago I would have fought you, but not now. I understand. I will keep an ultra-low profile."

"You can still teach classes, but you aren't going to be able to do the physical stuff and Ram doesn't want you on the gun range. Last time you were out there you'd rub your stomach after emptying a clip. My son prefers a quieter environment during his development. Everything else you can do from your computer."

"How long?"

"I suspect Vito will solve his problems shortly. He'll want to do it before the FBI comes sniffing around."

Joe was spending more time than he should in Trenton and the surrounding area looking for Mrs. Manoso, the bitch. He tried tailing vehicles leaving the Rangeman complex not realizing he himself was being tailed by Rangeman recruits. The only certainty he had was her OB-GYN appointments in Princeton. In true Morelli style, he tried to put the moves on the doctor's secretary to learn when Mrs. Manoso had her appointments. But the young thing could not be swayed by the aging, overweight former Italian Stallion. "I don't date old men," she brushed him off.

Terry was losing patience. "Are you still trying to find Stephanie Plum? Give it up."

"I found the bitch. She's not in the Army. She's married to that fucking Carlos Manoso. She's carrying his spawn. The bitch owes me," he said as he grabbed the decanter of scotch and a glass and sat down on the couch.

"Joe, you've got a big contract to sign tomorrow on the Perkins Hill Apartment Complex. Please don't drink tonight. You can deal with your anger later. We need this contract."

Joe was mad enough to throw the crystal tumbler across the room, but last time he did that Terry informed him how much one glass cost. Three hundred ninety dollars per glass made Joe consider throwing something far less expensive than French crystal.

Joe's anger abated for several days as the Perkins Hill contract came through. The contractor was pulling his own scams on other suppliers. In the end, the apartments would be built a bit cheaper and monthly rentals would be higher. The customer always paid in the end.

 **00000000**

Antonio Scarletta, Franco Franchetta, and Bustello met in Scarletta's home south of Princeton adjoining the TPC golf course Jasna Polana. They would be finalizing their control of Vito's business. For the record, Vito was still in control until his demise, shortly. At that time, they would assume control. The small contracting business they gladly gave to Terry Gilman and that idiot husband who thought he could hide behind glasses, short hair and a gut pretending to be Antanios Khoury.

The threesome teed up. The 414-yard, par-4 hole required pinpoint accuracy on the tee shot. The fairway bunker on the right was 250 yards from the tee making it an ideal trap for those with strong first tee shots. Trees lined both sides of the fairway and the green. The green sloped from right to left with a bunker catching errant putts. Birdies were rare and bogeys were plentiful.

First to tee off was Antonio Scarletta. He hooked his ball into the trees on the left, "Damn, I hope I have a shot." Next was Franco Franchetta who hit a straight ball 220 yards down the center of the fairway but it trickled to the left coming against the higher cut rough. Bustello sliced his ball over the right fairway bunker but into the trees. "That's going to be a bitch to find," Franchetta said. Bustello agreed and the attorney set off for the woods.

Antonio Scarletta was spending far too much time trying to find his golf ball on the left side. Franchetta walked back, "For God's sake just take a drop and play a new ball."

Scarletta growled, "That's a $5 ball. I'm not leaving Lincolns laying on the ground."

Franchetta laughed, "You'll be laying down Franklins or Hamiltons shortly."

Eventually, Scarletta took a drop, penalty, and played a new ball, but his second hit kept him in the woods, not out onto the fairway. Scarletta swore while Franchetta laughed. Franchetta went ahead to hit his ball towards the green and went back to help Scarletta find his second ball. They lost track of Bustello. As Bustello stomped around the woods looking for his ball and becoming more frustrated, he didn't see the wasps' nest land behind him. A swarm of many wasps came from the nest and began attacking the man right in front of them, filled with frustration and anger pheromones. In an instant, he had several dozen stings as he waved his hands about trying to swat the angry insects away. The hand waving only further riled them up. Bustello stumbled to the fairway and collapsed. He was lapsing into anaphylaxis from the stings. Only his EpiPen in his golf bag would save him, but he ran away from his bag. Scarletta and Franchetta were bushwacking on the other side of the fairway looking for the errant second ball and did not see Bustello.

When the men emerged from the woods and saw Bustello on the ground, they ran to render aid but were driven back by the angry wasps.

Groundskeepers were the first on the scene with pressure tanks filled with soapy water to knock down the wasps allowing the emergency workers a chance to work on Bustello. His throat was swollen shut, a tracheotomy was performed on the spot, but his heart quit soon after. In full cardiac arrest, he was rushed to the hospital in Princeton but arrived DOA.

Scarletta was the consigliere to Don Vito and justified demanding a meeting with Bustello's partners the next day. Understandably, the office was reluctant, preferring to close the office out of respect for their boss. Scarletta wanted to make certain his own records were identical to Bustello's as he assumed he would be the new Don once he contacted the proper party to assassinate Vito Grizzoli. Unknown to Scarletta and Franchetta, Vito's "key" had been turned. Completely falsified records had been switched into the company's mainframe showing Bustello, Franchetta, and Terry Gilman had been stealing Scarletta and Grizzoli blind.

Scarletta went ballistic, "Who the hell keeps the books here?"

The number two in the law firm sheepishly answered, "Mr. Bustello only, handled Grizzoli interests. None of us were allowed to access the accounts."

Scarletta looked at the spreadsheets and portfolios. By his calculation, his wealth should be well over $100 million, but the reports showed he had a paltry $13 million. Franchetta had $78 million and a very impressive portfolio of overseas stocks as well as numerous overseas accounts. Bustello had $159 million mostly in overseas accounts. And Terry Gilman was worth a nice tidy sum of $67 million. Vito had $10 million.

Scarletta stormed out of the office. His mind was racing ahead. He needed to get his money back.

The funeral for Bustello was a large, well-attended affair. Scarletta faked being cordial to Franchetta. Attendance from workers at Bustello's office was lean. Word had gotten out about the swindle by their deceased boss on a Mob account and most thought it best to take a long vacation well away from Mercer County. It was during the funeral's final commendation when the sign of farewell was being performed, the incensation of the casket and sprinkling of holy water, that a tremendous blast and subsequent fire destroyed the law offices of Bustello and Associates, including the computer server in the basement.

That night, Franchetta couldn't sleep. His good friend, Bustello, was gone, his office was destroyed. He suspected Vito had learned about Terry's betrayal and was cleaning house. Were he, Scarletta, as well as Terry in Vito's crosshairs? The more he thought about it, the more panicked he became. He needed to talk to Scarletta. His garage was not attached to the house. As he walked the fifty feet to the garage, Scarletta emerged from the shadows and plunged a knife into Franchetta's heart. As his once friend lay dying, Scarletta spat, " _Si muore di morte di un ladro._ " (You die a thief's death.) Franchetta didn't understand.

 **00000000**

Joe stumbled into his home's entry. He had spent the last two days on a 55-foot cruiser with several young buxom women on the pretense they needed enhanced security for their homes and businesses. The husbands thought the wives were on a ladies only cruise. When the ship docked, one husband sat in the parking lot watching who came off the ship. The women came down the pier laughing. His own wife came down arm in arm with the GAP Industries man, Khoury. GAP had been after the husband's signed security contract for an apartment complex and shopping mall. Before they were halfway down the pier, Khoury and his wife engaged in some serious kissing, fondling and dry humping. The husband quickly recorded the scene and sent a copy to the CEO of GAP, Mrs. Gilman-Khoury with a little note, "Contract negotiations are void. I'm signing with Rangeman tomorrow."

Terry sat at the home bar. She had already downed one drink and was well into her second when she heard Joe's Mercedes pull up. When Joe saw her he said, "Looks like a good idea" and sat down beside her.

Not looking at Joe, Terry asked, "Where did you say you went?"

Joe remembered his lie, "I was in Trenton looking for the bitch."

Terry nodded, "You didn't find her aboard the Silver Sprite?"

Joe swung his head around, "The what?"

Terry flipped up her tablet and played the video of the Silver Sprite at the Southside Marina at Point Pleasant.

"I can explain…" Joe started.

"No, I can explain, you bastard! You were out there making merry and fucking prospective clients' wives. Before you tell me it was a sales pitch, your little personal attention with Jason Spivick's wife has cost us a $17 million dollar contract for his new apartment complex and shopping mall."

"What?"

"Yeah, that cute little Bugatti you ordered the other day. I canceled the order. We can't afford it. We are broke. We need clients more than you need fuck buddies."

"We can get it back."

"No, Spivick contacted me and said he's signing with Rangeman tomorrow."

"Can't you just ask…"

"Ask who? Uncle Vito? Yeah, sorry, old man, we've been lying to you but could you give us $5 million. You want me to go to Scarletta? He was quite up front, we are out, completely separate from the Family business. This is our only income. I betrayed my uncle and the Family for you, a drunken bastard who can't keep his prick in his pants. The last eight contracts, I was the one who worked them while you were running all over Mercer County looking for the woman who bested you. If you don't start hauling your load around here, I'm tossing you on your artificially tanned, fake Lebanese ass, Mr. Khoury."

Instead of going ballistic, Joe's brain engaged. This was his last chance to make something of himself. "OK, OK." He got off the bar stool and went upstairs. There was no way Terry would let him into her bed tonight. He needed time to think anyway.

Joe went to his room and changed his clothes. He would be going out tonight. It had been several weeks since he toasted a potential client's job site but it was the quickest way to get them to sign with GAP Industries. Reduced rates for drywall, concrete and security system helped bring them into the fold. He waited until he heard Terry go into her room. As he began down the back stairs, she was waiting, "Where the hell do you think you are going?"

"Out."

"Out where? To burn more buildings? You promised you would not get back into arson. That will tear everything down. I will not let you destroy what I've worked for."

"What YOU worked for?"

"You are an imbecile. You can't do anything right. You were a dirty cop who could only solve his cases with Stephanie's help. You blame her for your problems. You were a train wreck long before she came along. She had to save your lousy ass when your confidential informant got killed and you were on the lam."

"Leave her out of this!"

"Why? That's all you've been doing for weeks trying to find Stephanie Manoso. You think killing her will solve your problems? You kill her and I guarantee Carlos Manoso will turn you into dog food."

"He's not such a hotshot anymore. He doesn't run Rangeman. He's just a thug."

"Idiot, he's Chairman of the Board of Rangeman with four district offices, 250 employees and an estimated worth north of $500 million what with landholdings and contracts. Hell, I should have started fucking him when he first came to Trenton and thrown your sorry ass overboard. Now get back upstairs and shut up."

"No."

"No? What do you mean, no? Did little Joey find his _virilità_ and _testicoli?_ (manhood; testicles) Or are you simply out to air out your _cazzo_ again?"

Joe snarled, "Get out of the way, bitch." Joe pulled a knife and waved it at Terry. "Move now."

Terry back away and Joe continued down the stairs and to the garage. Getting into his big black pickup truck, he drove away.

Terry went into a frenzy. She began throwing lamps, dishes, anything she could get her hands on. Then she stopped and went behind the bar. She had guns stashed throughout the house, but the bar held a black-as-night .45 Colt. As she turned around to find a place to sit and wait for Joe to return so she could blow his head off, she came face to face, with Antonio Scarletta and his knife.

"I came for my money," he said quietly.

Terry had the .45 tucked up her robe's sleeve. "What money? The money you've been stealing from Vito?"

"No, the $30 million or more you stole from me."

"Bullshit. I got a measly $10 million from you when you've skimmed three times that much or more from Vito. Vito's money should have been mine, but you've been stealing it. I'm keeping what I got."

With that Antonio lunged towards Terry with the knife. Antonio missed her heart, she was severely injured but had enough strength to pull the .45 and fire as Antonio came in for another strike. Terry's aim was spot on and Antonio died instantly. Terry took a bit longer as the second stab nicked the descending aorta.

Less than 10 minutes passed from the time Joe left the front gate to when the guards heard the gunshot in the house. They ran towards the house while another man, dressed all in black left unseen. His car was parked not far away. He would follow Morelli. He knew where he was headed. There was no hurry.

Joe pulled up to the back of a warehouse. Keeping to the shadows, he entered the building and carried out several dozen 5-gallon cans. The watcher then followed Joe to a gas station to fill a gas can. " _Stronzo_ ," the watcher spat (asshole). Gas stations have cameras. While the watcher was following Joe's activity, he failed to notice another black vehicle also observing. A Rangeman was keeping an eye on Antanios Khoury, a.k.a Joe Morelli.

Once Joe finished, he went into the convenience store and returned with a brown paper bag covering a bottle. Joe put the filled gas can in the back of the truck and pulled out. The little parade headed out into the country where houses sat on acreages. All three vehicles drove without lights. Joe was a little drunk and had a hard time staying on the road. He used the double-yellow center dividing lines as a center guideline underneath his truck. Good thing there was no oncoming traffic at this post-midnight hour.

Joe pulled into the dirt road leading back to the very large house under construction. Trees hid the house from the road. Neighbors were far off, also behind trees. The second vehicle's driver was back 100 yards hidden behind trees. The Rangeman was wearing night goggles, giving him an advantage. He could stay well back and follow heat signatures. He left his truck and cut through the dense woods, quietly coming around behind the house.

Joe sat in his pickup near the house, drinking from the brown paper bag. He sat for 20 minutes before he got out and began carrying 5-gallon containers into the house. After a dozen containers had been carried in, he remained inside. The Rangeman watched as the driver of the other vehicle snuck through the woods, stopped at the pickup, took the gas can and opened it and poured gas next to the tire closest to the gas cap and set the open container on the ground. He then snuck inside.

The Rangeman knew what was coming and decided to leave. He backtracked to his pickup and drove back to Trenton. While unhappy he had not been a part of the night's activities, he was pleased the problem was about to be solved.

The man who snuck into the house after Joe, watched him place the 5-gallon cans in clusters around the house concentrating against wallboard, not the rock walls. Joe wanted fires set where the draft would carry the flames up to the second floor the fastest. He set one cluster under a second-floor bridge. As he was finishing adjusting the cans, the second man came up behind him and hit him with a section of 4" x 4" wood, scrap from the bridge construction. Joe fell to the floor. His skull crushed in. The man laid the piece of wood across Joe's head as if it had fallen from the bridge above.

The unknown man pried the lid off several of the cans; acetone and denatured alcohol, spilling one over Joe. The paint thinners and turpentine containers were elsewhere. A hole was punched on one can, a rag soaked with the chemical and set as if to catch the leak. The man returned to set Joe's jean's leg on fire. The alcohol burned a barely visible blue light. The man left, ran to his truck and waited. Gradually the house began to lighten inside as the fire became established. The man left, watching the growing glow in his rearview mirror. At two miles away, a whoosh of bright light appeared above the trees. The truck caught on fire.

The mystery man drove to Newark, where he abandoned the stolen pickup. His sister picked him up, took him to a motel where he removed all his clothes, put them into a plastic bag and handed them to his sister. She carried them to the dumpster while the man showered multiple times then rubbed himself completely with fresh cut lemons to remove any lingering chemical smells. Once dressed in brand new clothes, he took out his cell phone and made a call.

" _È stato fatto_." (It has been done.)

" _Hai avuto problemi_?" (Did you have problems?) Vito asked.

" _Sì, ho preso una multa da una vespa_ ," he chuckled. (Yes, I got stung by a wasp.)

"Spero che non sei allergico a loro." (I hope you aren't allergic to them.)

"No."

The man and woman left the motel well before sunrise. She drove him to the Newark airport and she returned to Trenton arriving before 4 a.m. when neighbors were not yet awake. The man in the trousers, white shirt, and jacket, with no tie caught a flight to Miami. He was just a businessman heading to Miami for an early morning meeting. At the airport he ditched the jacket, changed his shirt to a polo shirt and boarded a flight to the Caribbean, where he returned to his job as Vito Grizzoli's bodyguard.

 **00000000**

Ranger and Michelle sat in their Miami home relaxing after a long day's work. A message from Tank included headlines from several Central New Jersey newspapers over the last few days. Ranger sat reading the news on his laptop.

"Giovanni Bustello, Trenton Attorney, dies from wasp stings at TPC Golf course in Princeton."

"Gas leak blamed on explosion and fire in law offices."

"Prominent businessman Franco Franchetta stabbed outside his garage in Princeton Meadows. Police are questioning his estranged wife."

"Manalapan Township woman Teresa Gilman-Khoury was stabbed to death in her home overnight. Apparent attacker, Antonio Scarletta, shot in heart. Gilman-Khoury's husband was seen leaving the house around the time of the stabbing and shooting."

"Suspected arsonist killed in Howell as a home under construction is torched. No identification has been made at this time due to the severe burns."

"Babe, you might want to read the news from Trenton. Tank sent several headlines. I'm not in a hurry to read the whole stories. If you want to read them, I'll call them up."

"Will they affect Rangeman? Can you summarize them? Otherwise, I could pass for a while."

"You want me to summarize news headlines," he smirked. "You want one or two-word summaries?" Ranger though a moment, "Vito cleaned house."

She was going to correct his count, when she realized what he told her. "Joe and Terry?"

"They aren't going to New Guinea."

Michelle thought for a bit. "Is Rangeman, and particularly one employee, totally in the clear?"

"I don't know. I hope so."

"OK, I'll read it." After scanning the headlines she looked up. "Do you think the body is Joe's?"

"Yes."

"Vito or He-who-must-not-be-named?"

"Vito. Hector would only go after Joe, not all five."

Michelle wasn't sure. Hector still protected her.

Most of the money that seemed to disappear was never found. Without reliable bookkeeping and so much tied up in offshore accounts, an actual accounting was difficult. A second key held only by Vito got into the Cayman accounts holding the flushed money. Some money went to a retired paralegal in Trenton. Some went to Ragni to get new people in place quickly. The rest went where nobody would ever find it, lost in a black hole known as the US Treasury.

 **00000000**

Three years later, Michelle sat at her desk at Rangeman Miami. She had been in Florida for a week and stuck in this chair for seven hours. She was starting to get antsy and sore. The alarm on her computer went off, "Gym time."

"Thank God. I need to M-O-V-E," she said to the walls. Removing her reading glasses and rubbing her eyes, she needed to stretch her neck. As she lowered her head, Francisco came running into her office. "Mommy, mommy, look who's here? It's GG."

Ranger stood in the door with the most solid granite face she had seen in years. "Is there a problem, Carlos?" Michelle asked. He could only shake his head up and down. Inching past him into to her office came Grandma and Grandpa Mazur.

Michelle stared at both of them. One had been dead for over ten years, and the other was alive just last week in Melbourne. Before she could say anything, Edna began speaking, "He came for me. Isn't it wonderful? I've been praying he would come and we could be together again. I'm going to miss you, sweetheart, but it's time. You can cry, but don't be sad for long. It was one heck of a journey."

Michelle hugged her tiny wisp of a grandmother. How had she become so small and delicate? "When did this happen?"

Grandpa Mazur spoke, "Just a bit ago. She was laying down for a nap. I was waiting for her. Frank and the girls haven't found her yet. Before we both go, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. You've become everything I hoped you would after our little Maine get-together." After giving Michelle a hug and tousling Francisco's hair, Grandpa Mazur turned to Carlos and said, "While you didn't exactly save her, you did jump in and both of you were saved. One final word, son: Stay away from those little blue pills. I died with one heck of a boner. Edna never forgave me."

With that, the elderly couple walked out of Michelle's office, but not before Edna gave Ranger one last pinch and left laughing


End file.
